


Breach

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, and he takes what he wants, dark!, he's gone rogue y'all, look this is a rough winter soldier, not really bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 15:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18607621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: The reader finds herself in the Winter Soldier's cross hairs during a lock down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is written while Bucky is the Winter Soldier and his programming is going haywire. I hope you all enjoy this, it's the first fic I've written during this period of Bucky's life so I hope it's okay. As always, read the warnings and let me know what you think in the comments. <3

The siren wailed through the hallways, perilous echoes bouncing from corner to corner. You had only ever heard the deep blare once before. Then you had spent hours under lock down with several other staff as distant gunshots, voices, and booms came muffled through the walls. You had been fortunate that time, close enough to evacuate to the panic room.  _Not this time._  Dr. Lavrenti was with you, preparing for a routine procedure. The Asset had just returned to headquarters and due for a ‘tune up’. It seemed he had different plans.

As an orderly, you weren’t supposed to know of the Asset. Of course, your job made that impossible but you were to be willfully blind to the operations of Hydra’s facilities.  _Fuck,_  when you had taken this job, it had seemed the perfect opportunity. A verified medical facility with steady pay. Sadly, you had misinterpreted the listing but couldn’t reject a wage double that of the factory you had formerly worked in. All you had to do was keep your head down and your mouth closed.

Lavrenti looked to you as the whine erupted. He motioned you silently to the stainless steel cupboard, a finger on his lips. There was no time to run for the lock down chamber; you’d have to wait it out there. You gulped and got to your knees, opened the metal door and pushed aside the empty basins. You glanced over your shoulder, the doctor pulling a pistol hidden under the frame of the bed. You tucked yourself inside the cupboard and did your best to close the door behind you; a slit of light leaked in through the crack as you peered out.

You could hear shattering clangs. Ominous footsteps closing in as you waited with baited breath. Lavrenti aimed at the door, pistol gripped in both hands, waiting for his foe. If you were lucky, Hydra security would distract him before he could think to enter the examination room. You hugged your knees to your chest, the sterile silence crackling as the rogue soldier loomed ever closer. He had to be close, his boots crashed down louder and louder.

The door was rent open and bent the wrong way on its hinges with a sickening metallic whine. You held in a gasp as you watched through the small crack of vision to the rest of room. The door flew inward and Lavrenti was taken down by the heavy barrier. The black military boots walked over it, further crushing the doctor as he groaned in agony. You could no longer see the masked soldier as he marched diligently onward.

“Please,” You heard Lavrenti croak, a shift before the clatter of the door. Only silence met the doctor’s protests. You could hear him gurgling, legs kicking against the door, his struggles quickly extinguished by the Asset’s fingers. The sudden shift of the door made you flinch and you held in your shock, palm firmly clasping your lips shut.

The footsteps continued around the room. You closed your eyes as you listened with dread. If you got out of this, you were going back to the factory with your mother. You didn’t care about the money; it didn’t mean much if you were dead. As the boots tramped closer, you prayed he’d pass you by.  _What were you to him?_  An orderly. All you did was sterilize equipment and mop the floors. You had never even been in the same room as the vaunted Winter Soldier. The few glimpses you had caught of him had been from afar and brief; all you remembered of him was his dark mask and disheveled mane. He was more machine than man.

He was just beside your hiding spot, pausing before continuing forward. His leg brushed against the door, clicking it shut as he passed. The subtle noise caught his attention and his footsteps stopped again. You couldn’t see anything through the cramped black of the cupboard. Your eyes rounded as you heard the bracing of leather and the whisper of metal against metal. The door twitched before it was pulled open slowly. You looked to the growing light in terror, a shadow filling your sight.

The Asset was as silent as ever as he stared back at you. His blue eyes considered you, moving slightly as they washed over you; measuring you. His dark hair was dusty, its ends dipped in blood as more painted his right arm along a large gash through leather and flesh. You didn’t need to see beyond his mask to know there was no emotion beneath. He killed as easily as you swept away dirt from the floor. You winced in realization. This would be the end.

You trembled as his metal arm reached out, closing around your throat. You grabbed onto his wrist as he slowly applied pressure. You sputtered, helpless, your fingers glossing gently over the metal platelets. “You’re bleeding,” You looked to his real arm as you rasped, “I can help.” He didn’t release you but his grip remained even; allowing you enough air to speak. “I know how to stitch. I can clean it for you.”

You kept your hand on his metal arm, caressing it as if it was flesh. His lashes flicked as he thought, his thumb running along the line of your jaw. All at once he let go and stepped back, standing before the open cupboard. His metal hand pointed to the floor before him and you took his meaning swiftly. You gripped the sides of the cupboard as you pulled yourself out and he grabbed your upper arm, jolting you to your feet. He was strong.

He turned and dragged you to the bed. You tried not to look at Lavrenti’s corpse, half-hidden beneath the displaced door. He planted you beside it and glanced to the table of utensils waiting just beside it. He nodded at it and climbed up, sitting with eyes forward and shoulders straight. You rolled the tray closer, stilling your trembling hands on it as you did. You had only ever stitched one other person once; your mother had shown you how when she had cut herself on the machinery at work. It felt so long ago.

Blue eyes wandered in your direction and you recalled your task. This was not the time to tarry. You touched the ragged fabric which covered the gash and his metal fingers swiftly reached over to tear open the sleeve so that it hung loosely from his arm. You took a swab and some alcohol from the tray, hovering it above his flesh nervously. If you caused him pain, he might do worse to you. His metal fingers pressed against yours, forcing the cotton to his flesh. You looked to his masked face and his eyes went forward once more.

You daintily went about cleaning away the grime and dried blood; tenderly daubing his flesh. He did not flinch; didn’t move. You tossed the soiled cotton and sterilized a needle and suture. You placed the point to the edge of the cut. “I’m going to start the stitches now. It might hurt.” You warned. A small nod, almost imperceptible. 

As you poked the metal through his skin he looked to you once more, his eyebrows arched in curiosity. You couldn’t worry about his gaze; you had to get these stitches right. He didn’t look away this time as you got closer in your concentration. When you finished, you wiped the gash clean one last time.

You added the swab to the pile of dirty cotton, a hand closed around your chin and forced you to look up. The Asset cradled your jaw in his real hand; the leather of his glove and his rough fingertips made you shudder. You stared at him in terror, waiting for his hand to slip down and choke you once more. But he didn’t.

He slipped from the table, standing close, looming over you. He stepped forward and you tried to retreat. He grabbed your arm with his metal hand and turned you easily, pinning you between him and the table as he stared down at you. He rescinded his grip from your chin and reached up to his mask, removing it in a single swipe. Your mouth opened in an unfinished gasp as he tossed it aside. He was a handsome man even if he was a murderer. You blinked; wondering if this was a game he liked to play with his victims.

His metal hand slipped down your arm, lifted yours and decisively placed your palm against his bare cheek. You could feel the short stubble there. Your thumb ran over his cheekbone without thinking. Your whole body was shaking as you stood trapped between him and the bed. Your eyes strayed, only for a moment, glancing at the tray of scalpels and medical instruments. He growled and reached over blindly, pushing over the table. He shook his head slowly and released your hand.

He latched onto the lapel of your lab coat and tore it down your shoulders and you squeaked. He forced it further down your arms, baring the plain orderly scrubs beneath. You let him pull the sleeves from your wrists and he dropped it in a puddle at your feet. His hands grazed over your arms, peculiar against your skin. He dragged his fingers across your shoulders and hooked them under the vee of your collar. You closed your eyes and he removed a hand, his thumb dragged your eyelid open. The heat in his gaze was a warning; don’t look away.

Your chest felt as if it was being crushed. He once more gripped the collar of your shirt, ripping it as if it was nothing. The sight of your plain white bra made you blush and you looked to the ceiling. He grabbed your chin again, forcing your head straight, and pressed his forehead to yours. A subtle squeeze as one last warning. You nodded and he stood straight, stripping away the remnants of your shirt. He was as brutal as any soldier. There was no hesitation in his actions. He snapped the tied waistband of your pants and they fell limp to your ankles. He ripped your panties, jolting your pelvis as you hissed in shame.

“Please…” You begged, “Please, don’t do this.”

You looked up at him, his blue eyes licked with flames. He tilted his head, the rest of his expression blank. You could not reason with a machine. His hands clamped around your hips and lifted you, weightless, and placed you on the table. Your pants fell to the ground with the sudden motion, your feet swinging in socks and shoes. He pressed himself to the edge of the bed, sliding the straps of your bra down your shoulders. He didn’t bother to unclasp the teeth, tearing the cotton as easily as he had your panties.

You tried to cover your chest and he shoved your arms down. He pushed on your shoulders until you were forced to lay back on the bed. You squeezed your knees together as he stood over you, hands trailing from collarbone to pelvis, tracing the lines of your form. His fingertips sent ripples through you and his hand settled on your breasts, cupping them, kneading them, almost mechanically. It was as if he was simulating the act as there was no true intimacy to his movements. This was necessity, not desire.

He tweaked your nipples painfully before his hands travelled lower. You winced and groaned, his fingers walking along your stomach, hips, and thighs, hands closing on your knees caps. As he parted your legs, you whined and tried to sit up. He pushed you down, your back slamming against the bed. You desperately fought to close your legs but he was between them in a moment, shifting you closer to the edge of the bed, your ass almost hanging off.

He worked at unbuckling his belt and you cringed. You covered your face in shame as you felt the blooming in your pelvis. You shouldn’t feel this way. You should be appalled. Your hands were pulled away again as he forced them to your sides and pressed your palms to the table.  _Keep them there,_  his eyes said. You clenched your jaw and watched him return his attention to himself.

He reached into his unbuckled pants, sliding them down until he could pull his cock comfortably above his belt. He was ready; hard. And big. Your fingers spread over the thin padding in trepidation. Your blood was cold. You tried to wriggle away but he caught you again, holding you firmly by your hips. You reached up, trying to pull yourself away by the far edge of the bed. It was useless.

He held you in place with his metal hand, his other gripped the base of his cock as he stepped closer, poking at your pussy. He rubbed the tip along your folds. You could feel your juices as he spread them. He ran his hand up and down his length, lubricating himself with your unbidden arousal. He placed his thick head at your entrance and you whimpered. He pushed into you sharply. You exclaimed as he forced himself all the way to his base, allowing no time for you to adjust. Your walls buzzed, the shock of pleasure awash with pain.

He thrust just as violently as he had entered, his pace unrelenting as he worked into you. You whined with each jolt of your body, twitching helplessly atop the bed. His motion was steady, pounding into you, the fabric of his pants rough against your flesh. Your back arched in pain, fingers clawing at the padding below. You could hear the change in his breathing as he fucked you and your own had turned ragged.

And then the agony turned to pleasure. The frightened squeaks lowered to dusky moans. Your hands went to his as he held your hips in place, nails against flesh and metal alike as he plunged into you. Your thighs tingled, splayed weakly open to his intrusion. Your eyes fluttered as you shook in mounting delight, unable to fend off the rising tension. Small grunts rose from his lips in turn, the only sound he had made thus far. Your shoulders curled off the bed as you were suddenly taken by the rapture, his cock drawing forth your climax.

His motion did not waver. As you babbled in your ecstasy, he thrust even harder and deeper. You fell back, robbed of all strength, and he fucked you mercilessly. You doubted your climax held any deep meaning for him as he chased his own. Your pussy was throbbing, sore and overworked. He was relentless as if you were nothing but a tool. A mere object to be used for his relief.

He snapped his hips forward harshly and a deep growl escaped his lips. As his motion slowed, you felt the warmth of his release coating your walls. He hung his head back and pulled out of you in one swift movement, his seed mixed with your own juices and flowed from your pussy. You closed your eyes as you listened to him retreat, the zip of his pants and jingle of his belt. You slid from the table onto the floor, out of breath and in a daze.

When you opened your eyes again, he knelt beside you. He touched a damp lock of hair that had fallen loose. He tilted his head as he looked down at you, his blue eyes shone with emotion which did not reach the rest of his face. He reached down and pulled the lab coat to cover your body. His hand rested on your head for only a second before he rose again, leaving you in a quivering mess as he marched out the doorless frame.


	2. The Cell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You become of interest to HYDRA...and the Asset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is written while Bucky is the Winter Soldier and his programming is going haywire. This is the second part and I’m still unsure about where I’m going but I hope you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think :D

You were in a haze as the siren died marking the end of the Asset’s assault. At least, you hoped it did. You didn’t move from where he had left you, your eyes glued to the lifeless body of Dr. Lavrenti. He hadn’t been a great man; considering the beast he worked for, he was quite the opposite but he had tried to keep you safe. While HYDRA had little regard for death toll, it didn’t reflect well or make operations any easier to have one’s own agents killing their staff. You knew what the doctor had been and what he had done. You couldn’t blame the Winter Soldier for lashing out at his master. Even so, it didn’t make it any easier. This whole place was fucked and you had signed on for a paycheck.

It served you right. Cosmic forces had twisted against you for your complicity. It couldn’t be anything else. The tears began to fall, trickling over the bridge of your nose and across your cheek into the tangles of your hair beneath your head. You could still feel the pain inside, the tingle along your thighs streaked with fire. You felt so weak, as if you had been drained of all you had. The remnants of his release had cooled, seeping out in a sickly stream. The feeling made your stomach churn.

You heard footsteps, these ones hurried and belonging to more than one person. Armored HYDRA agents rushed in and removed the door from atop Lavrenti’s corpse. You were forgotten, unnoticed as you curled up beneath the lab coat. You watched them carry the body away and shuddered with a groan. At last, one of the guards spotted you just beside the hospital bed, touching the radio on his shoulder as he called for a higher authority. His words melded together in your ears; a constant buzz dulling your senses.

The other guards left as the one who noticed you remained, keeping his distance as he kept anyone else from entering. Doctor Ilyich appeared, stepping through the shrapnel of the door frame, his eyes settling on your pathetic form. He neared you, kneeling to uncover the name tag on your lab coat, careful not to shift it from your nakedness. He shrugged. You were just an orderly. He stood and spun, motioning to the guard with two fingers.

You were gruffly pulled from the floor, the lab coat forced over your shoulders as you were led from the room. You walked stiffly, losing track of where you were. Your vision was a mosaic of pulsing orbs, the shock turning your body numb. Your head cleared when you realized you were sitting still. You were in a room you had never seen before. There were boxy monitors along the walls, cubed keyboards below and a series of buttons you couldn’t begin to understand. You were still in the lab coat, Ilyich speaking with fellow doctors across the room.

They stood before the wall of screens, Ilyich turned and pointed to the top corner and hit a key. Your eyes focused as the image of you at the mercy of the Asset began to play. The blur of tears rose once more and you sniffed, tucking your chin against the lapel of the coat. 

Your movement caught Ilyich’s eye and he peered at you over the shoulder of his peer. “You see,” He continued as you avoided meeting his gaze, staring instead behind him, “He stopped thereafter. Entirely.” He pointed to another screen, the Asset stood stalk straight, head down, and allowed guards to successfully submit him. “His programming works, but the vessel is overwhelmed by biological instinct. If we can relieve the tension, these episodes should stop.”

You shook your head. You just wanted to be gone from this place. You stood shakily and Ilyich pushed past his colleagues. “Young lady,” He was before you in an instant, “Please, you must sit. You have experienced a terrible attack.” You easily obeyed as you were too weak to resist.

“I want to go,” You said evenly, “Please. I am going back to the factory where I belong.”

“No, you won’t be going back to the factory, I’m afraid,” The other doctor’s listened intently. “We have need of you here.”

“What? You saw what happened. I quit, I’m done,” You were gripping the metal arms of the chair.

“Why, young lady, you’ve earned yourself a promotion,” He said darkly, “You are most important to HYDRA’s work, it seems.”

“No, no,” You tried to stand again by another doctor, Yakovna, you thought his name was, came around your other side and held you in place by your shoulder. “I want to go.”

“You cannot go,” Ilyich asserted, “You see, the Asset chose you.”

“He raped me,” You hissed, trying to shrug off Yakovna.

Ilyich scoffed. “However you see it is not important. What is, is that you remain and appease his frustrations so that this does not happen again.”

“I am not a whore,” You shoved away Yakovna, making to stand but were forced back by Ilyich’s strike across your cheek.

“If you leave, HYDRA will make sure you are in the gutters of the darkest street. Your family, too. So your choice is this; stay an intrinsic tool for our research or go offer your services on the corner of whatever dirty village you came from.” He spoke so harshly your eyes were watering again.

“Th-this can’t be,” You looked between Ilyich and Yakovna, the doctor’s behind watching blankly. “I...I…” You dropped your face into your hands and began to sob, “No, no, no. Please, let me go. I swear I won’t tell anyone w-w-what happened.”

“Young lady,” Yakovna bent down, touching your elbow softly, “This is not a bad thing. You are important. You can help HYDRA. Help your country and family. It is a noble sacrifice.”

You looked up at him, his eyes did not share the warmth of his tone. You thought of your mother and sniffed, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I haven’t a choice, do I?”

“No,” Ilyich crossed his arms, “You will be kept comfortable so long as you keep the Asset thus. You should consider yourself fortunate; many in this country would trade everything to have such luxury.”

Your fingers combed through your hair, tangling there, as you held your head. Your reality was closing in on you, your head spinning. Ilyich turned and waved forward a guard looming in the corner, “Clean her up. We will have a room arranged for her.” You were jolted from your seat by the guard, your sneakers slipping over the floor as you were dragged away. Your shock had turned to resignation; your body numb.

***

You were given plain white scrubs after you were forced to wash yourself in the shower pod. You brushed your hair with the metal comb allotted you and followed the guard along the corridors with dread. You were dressed as if you were still an orderly, only the uniform was a different colour and your lab coat was gone. No name tag, no mark of your humanity. You were a tool now. You figured you were much like the Asset; a thing to be used.

You were shown into a sterile white room, a large window in the far wall which exposed its interior to the next. A stiff hospital bed sat in the corner and a rack of plain white scrubs opposite. A sink with basic toiletries, a curtain strung around a toilet, a single book on a table. It was the bare minimum of living. The guard waved you inside and left you there, the door closing with a frightening clang. You approached the window; this must have been an examination room, or even a surgery stage. It had been quickly disassembled for your occupation.

You gasped as you peered into the next room. There was a large pod with massive metal tubes forming a labyrinth around it. A table of monitors close by, file cabinets and a messy series of desks filled the space before it. A metal examination table sat opposite the work area and a panoply of medical devices alongside it. The pod was glossed over in frigid smoke and within you could barely make out its inhabitant; the Asset.

He looked pale through the glass, eyes closed, hair limp around his face. He wasn’t so scary like this. Inert and incapacitated. You suspected he wouldn’t be kept so for long. Every other day he was set loose to reign his expertise on HYDRA’s enemies; at least, you could surmise as much from the number of suspicious deaths reported. Your chest hammered as you stared at him. 

You spun around and looked around the room instead. It didn’t make you feel any better. You felt like a rat kept in a cage for observation. You crossed to the small table in the corner and sat in the single chair. The metal was unyielding against your tender pelvis. It reminded you of what he had done. Of what he would do again. You leaned your head in your hands and sighed. 

Heil Hydra.

***

One morning you woke up and the Asset was gone. The first week had been spent in tedium. You had read and reread the only book, pacing the room when you were restless, and laying awake on the flimsy hospital bed at night. When you noticed the empty pod, your blood turned cold. The chamber was a flurry of doctors and agents, working as they did every day. You had yet to grow use to them. Every now and then, a pair would stand outside the window, gesturing to you as they spoke. You couldn’t hear them in your padded cell.

It was three days before he returned. You had goosebumps as you sensed the change in the next room. You stepped up to the glass and watched as the Asset marched past agents and doctors, sitting on the metal table as they hooked up tubes and wires. You watched as they worked on him, like bees in a hive. You stood at the edge of the window, peeking through meekly. Slowly, the Winter Soldier’s head turned and his blue eyes met yours above his black mask. He tilted his head, a spark of recognition. You drew back and hid in the corner with a squeak.

You slid down and crawled under the tiny table, hugging your knees as you sat in silence. You felt as if you had gone deaf. The only people who had entered were those who brought you your meals and they didn’t say anything to you. You began to rock, your nerves running wild. The door handle turned suddenly and the grinding of the hinges made you whimper.  _No, no, no._

Black boots stepped inside, stopping just within as the door closed swiftly. You smothered your mouth with your hand and fought to steady your breathing. After a moment, the feet began to move, walking the perimeter of the room, pausing beside the sink, the bed, and finally the table. A metal hand grasped the table top, the thumb poking just beneath, and the Asset knelt to find you beneath.

His mask was gone, he wore only a black tank and his usual cargo military pants, all weapons and armor removed. His blue eyes glossed over you. He removed his hand from the table and offered the metal palm. You stared at it and shook your head, pressing yourself further under the table. He closed his eyes and sighed. He reached out and grabbed your upper arm, pulling you until you were forced to crawl out from beneath the table.

“Don’t, please,” You quivered as he led you to the center of the room.

He turned to face you, staring down intently. He moved backwards, drawing you with him until he was against the hospital bed. He let go of you and lifted himself onto the bed in one swift move. He reached out, turning you and lifting you to sit on his thigh. You tensed as you balanced yourself on his lap and his flesh fingers lightly grazed your cheek, his palm cupping your face as his eyes never left you. His metal arm wrapped around your waist and he pressed you against him, nudging your head against his shoulder, embracing you just like that. Your heart raced as you sat still, locked in his grasp.

You felt his body relax beneath you, his fingers combing through your hair as he began to stroke your scalp. You placed your palm against his chest to keep yourself steady. He didn’t move or make a noise as he held you just like that; keeping you close in the thick silence. You were surprised, thus, when at last he did release you; unharmed. He slid you down to the floor, squeezed your shoulder and resumed his usual posture before marching to the door. You watched him go, your breath shuddering from your body, his boots still echoing in your head.


	3. Corrupt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is cornered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: So this is written while Bucky is the Winter Soldier and his programming is going haywire. This is the third part and I’m still unsure about where I’m going but I hope you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think in the comments :D

Once a day you were taken to the shower room to wash yourself. The guard would wave you out of the deafening white room and walk you down the corridors, his gear tinkling with each step. You hadn’t much to say to your keepers and they had seemingly been ordered not to say anything to you. The loneliness and silence was starting to drive you mad.

The shower room was a long metallic chamber, walls lined with shower heads and faucet handles. The guard would stand outside the only door as you stepped inside, an echoing knock sounded when you were to emerge. It was almost peaceful. A reprieve from the constant observation and the anticipation of the Asset’s next visit. The last you had peeked out the broad window, he was gone. Another mission meant a second drop-in could be expected.

You stepped under the shower head and cranked the faucet, the water soaking your hair and streaming down your body in divergent rivers. A cloud of steam rose around you and dispersed in the airy chamber before it could warm you completely. You washed yourself with the clinical smelling soap and squeezed a dollop of shampoo into your hair. As you rubbed in the bubbles, you heard the door. A shiver went through you; a culmination of the open chamber and unwanted intrusion.

You lowered your arms to cover yourself as you turned. _Had you taken too long?_  You hadn’t wasted your time; as diligent as ever. The shampoo ran down your temple as your vision cleared and another figure appeared through the steam. The Asset walked mechanically to the shower beside you. His metal hand twisted the faucet, not once acknowledging your presence. He must have just returned; you could smell the sweat on him as the water began to slake through it.

You stared at him warily but he acted as if you weren’t even there. Cautiously you turned back and rinsed the last of the shampoo from your hair. Lastly, you let the water run over your face and wiped it away from your eyes before turning off your shower head. There wasn’t long that you could avoid him but you were entirely unprepared for him in this moment. This was the one time a day you were alone; when you found any sense of calm. Those minutes wrapped in steam were the only warmth you felt. You could let your mind drift away; you could cry about your homesickness without anyone knowing.

Before you could step away, you were stopped by a firm grip around your arm. The Asset’s flesh hand was on you, holding you in place. You looked up at him and he slowly returned your stare. You resisted as he tried to move you, nearly pulling you off your feet. As his fingers got tighter, you were forced to relent. He led you in front of him, facing him, standing just below the shower stream with him. He let go of your arm, his metallic hand mirroring his real one as he ran his hands from your shoulders to wrists. He took your hand in his vibranium one and reached over your shoulder. He placed the rough sponge in your palm as you trembled between him and the hot water. Next, he grabbed the same soap you had used and squeezed some onto the sponge.

He lifted your other hand and clapped the sponge between your palms. Slowly you worked it to a lather and he guided you to touch his chest. You stared up at him. His blue eyes were glued to you. At last his arms dropped to his side and he stood rigid. His attention left you and latched to the wall. He remained still as you began to scrub his skin; neck, shoulders, chest, arm, you weren’t sure about the metal one, down his torso, and then you stopped. He hadn’t moved at all; not a twitch or flinch, but as you reached his pelvis you found him to be aroused. You dropped the sponge as you gaped at his erection. You started to back away from him, your feet slipping on the tile.

His metal arm reached past you and twisted the faucet to a stop. The steady downpour ceased and only thick silence remained. You retreated straight into the wall as he stepped closer.  _No, not here_. You had readied yourself for the inevitable in the cell, but not here. This was your safe place. His hand was on your neck in a second; just on the side of it. Firm enough to keep you still. He was looking at you again. His vibranium hand was on yours, leading it once more, this time it brought your fingers to his cock. You shuddered as you were forced to grip him. He rocked his pelvis so that your hand slid along his length, holding your grasp against him. His other hand glided down your collar bone to cup your breast.

With a tilt of his head, he let go of your hand on his cock. A silent command to continue.You didn’t dare pull away, carrying the motion as his breaths grew drawn out. His shoulders slackened as he continued to toy with your tits. His eyes were stuck to the movement of your hand as if fascinated; not just by the sensation but the sight itself. Of another touching him. You stared at his muscled chest, too embarrassed to watch what you were doing or what he was doing to you.

His hand left your chest, the one that was still his own, creeping down your stomach, tickling the line of your pelvis. He leaned down as he reached further and forced his hand between your legs. You closed your eyes. You concentrated on keeping your hand working up and down his cock. Two fingers pushed between your folds, exploring your pussy. He felt around for a while, his chest rising and falling heavily as you stroked him, until the flick of his finger across your clit made you spasm. He repeated the gesture and your back arched into him, your hand hesitating as you tried to keep your pace. He pulled your hand away from his cock and hooked his arm around you, pressing himself to you as he swirled his fingers around your bud. You had no control over your body as you began to twitch; little moans fell from your lips.

He bent his head so that his lips were just above your forehead. You could feel him smelling you, feeling the convulsions of your body as he lulled it. You gripped his bicep, bracing yourself as you felt the rising tide. You were on your tiptoes as the tendrils wrapped around your thighs, crawling up your back. His breath was hot against your hairline as his fingers dragged forth your climax and your nails dung into his flesh. Your orgasm was but a whisper but your entire body turned to air and the tension seeped from you, dripping down his hand.

He retracted his hand and stood straight. You opened your eyes and watched as he gripped his cock. He spread your juices along his length. Slowly the afterglow began to peel away and you let go of his arm. _No, not again._  You tried to push him away but he easily held you to the wall. He grabbed your hips and lifted you easily. His flesh was hot against yours; even his metal hand burned. He positioned you just over his cock as you clawed at his chest. 

“Stop, stop,” You begged. “Please.”

He couldn’t hear you. Or didn’t want to. You felt the head of his cock at your entrance, the slick hole welcoming him. As he lowered you onto him, you hissed through your teeth. You beat on his chest until he had impaled you entirely. Your eyes seared with the threat of tears. A mixture of humiliation and anger; at him, at Hydra, at yourself. You slapped him across the face but his head didn’t even move. He barely seemed to notice the strike. He merely pulled back and slid into again; this time harder.

As he thrust into you, you whined and whimpered. Your walls began to ache from his invasion and your own pleasure. The pressure began to build and despite your inner turmoil, you chased the release. You needed it. It was the only escape you had left. For that split second, you could forget and get lost in the rapture. You surrendered as the Asset fucked you, crushing you against the wall as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your legs hung limp around him; the shower room filled with the sounds of clapping flesh and your intermingled moans.

You were gasping, barely able to catch your breath between thrusts, and the wheel whirred within you until finally it ground to a halt. You sobbed as you met another orgasm, frazzled as his pace didn’t waver. He pounded into you and grunted into your neck until he slowed to a decisive stabbing. His right hand kneaded your ass as his metal arm hooked up, fingers clutching your shoulder as he sunk as deep as he could. You felt the sudden burst of warmth and he snarled sharply. He continued his jagged thrusts to a slow halt. He let you sink to his base as he held you to the wall and his breath slowed.

He lowered you carefully to the floor and removed himself from you. Your legs crumbled beneath you and you fell to the shower floor. You hung your head as you held yourself up with shaky arms. You could feel his cum leaking from you. You looked between your legs at the glossy flow along your thighs. Your entire body was thrumming.

You heard the Asset moving around but didn’t dare look up. If you were lucky, he would just leave you alone. He didn’t. A white robe appeared before you. He set it in your hands and lifted you under your arms until you were standing. You didn’t move or look up. He took the robe and forced it up your arms and around your figure. He tied it tightly. He covered himself with another as you sunk back into a half-crouch against the wall.

He let out a long breath and scooped you up. He carried you in his arms to the door, kneeing it with a bang. The guard opened it and another appeared beside him. He marched between them through the halls as you covered your face and began to shake.  _You couldn’t cry; don’t cry, don’t cry._  When you opened your eyes, you were at the door of your cell and he swiftly carried you through and set you down on the bed. He stared down at you and his fingers drew a line down your cheek. You turned so that your back was to him and buried your head under your arm.

You listened for him to leave. He did so after a moment of silence. You remained as you were. When your lunch was brought, you ignored it. Dinner was left untouched as well. You couldn’t find the strength to do anything but lay there. There was no point in fighting; none in fear. It would be easier if you just complied.


	4. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader loses herself.
> 
> Warnings: non/dubcon sex, mention of blood, self-harming thoughts.
> 
> This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: So I’ll leave y’all for now to guess at the time frame of this but it will become clearer as we go. Here we have Winter Soldier going a bit off his programming again but not entirely. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments you can :D

Three days passed since the shower. Since then, you hadn’t returned to wash again.  _How could you ever get clean in a place that had been so soiled?_  When they brought you food, you did not touch it, and when they spoke to you, you did not respond. You only rose to tend to your basest needs in the stall and returned thence to the flimsy hospital bed. Under the clinical sheet and thin flannel blanket, you longed for the end. Not just the end to this prison, but everything. Your life wasn’t your own anymore. It was Hydra’s; it was the soldier’s.

On the third day, you had started to turn cold and the orderlies had tried to rouse you. When they had forced you onto your back, you had fought as much as you could, but you were weak. No food, no water, you were wasting away. You were easily restrained under thick straps against the bed and an i.v. was poked through your skin. From what you could understand through your haze, you were suffering from extreme dehydration. The thought didn’t scare you, it beckoned to you. Your body was only withering as your soul had. Soon it would be done.

The day after, you awoke feeling lighter. Livelier, even. The flow of the intravenous was like a shock of adrenaline in your wilting body. You were still strapped to the bed, your head pounded as you lifted it to look around. You could sense movement through the window but could not peer through it from your purview. You dropped your head and huffed. It was far from over.

The bolt of the door clicked and you turned your head to watch Doctor Ilyich enter with a nurse on his tail. You blinked and looked back to the ceiling as he pulled up as chair and sat next to your bed. His cold stethoscope pushed against your arm as he checked your pulse and vitals, moving under the blankets to your chest. You still wore nothing more than the robe which smelled of must and sweat.

“Very good,” He sat back, “You are recovering.” You kept your eyes closed as you willed him away. “You.” He grabbed your wrist gruffly, “Will eat now or we will force a tube down your throat.” You shook your head and tried to pull away, “Look at me!”

Your eyes snapped open and you glared at him. “Just kill me.” You croaked through dry lips.

“Now that would defeat our purpose. Waste all this hard work,” He waved around the room. “You, my dear, are not here to die.” He signaled to the nurse with two fingers, “You are here to do quite the opposite.”

The nurse left through the open door and he waited with a grin on his face until she re-entered with a wheeled machine. You had never seen anything like it before. Ilyich parted the robe beneath your restraints and you squirmed as he bared your body. You still hadn’t grown used to the humiliation; that was the worst of it.

He pushed buttons on the odd machine and the screen lit up with a black and white image. You glanced between him and the device in confusion.  _What was he doing?_  You began to struggle against the straps frantically. 

“If you do not stop, we will sedate you…” The threat did not scare you; in fact it would be favour. Ilyich growled and grabbed your thighs as he dug his nails sharply into your skin. “Quit or I will awake the Asset and let him hold you down for me.”

You went still at once. Ilyich took the wand attached to the machine and a bottle from the cart. He squeezed a cool gel on your lower stomach and you shivered. You were terrified. You had no idea what he was doing but you were certain it wasn’t good. He spread the gel with the wand and pressed along your pelvis, a low hum whirred from the machine. You gripped the sheet below you and waited for him to be done.

“Too early,” He removed the wand and wiped it off. “But she is healthy. A perfect specimen.” Your heart was racing as you watched the nurse pack up the device and hand the doctor a paper cup. “We have supplements for you. To keep you strong.” He looked into the cup and smiled; a devious expression. “Remove the straps, nurse.”

The nurse did as she was told and you were freed. Slowly, you sat up as the doctor stood. You hadn’t the strength to resist and were too afraid to try. The threat of the Asset loomed in your mind. “Here. Take these.” The nurse poured water from the pitcher into a glass; the same you had ignored several days past. You shakily accepted the paper cup and water, eyeing the capsules with dread. “Do it or I’ll force them down your throat myself.”

You flinched at his tone and tossed back the mouthful of pills and gulped down the water to keep them from sticking to your tongue. You handed back both cups and pulled your robe closed. Wordlessly, Ilyich grabbed your left arm and slid the i.v. from your flesh and pressed a cotton swab to the dot of blood that appeared. 

“Pressure,” He instructed and you replaced his fingers with your own. “Now, this will be your final warning. Co-operate or you will be chained up like the dog you are.”

He gestured the nurse from the room. She pushed the cart away and Ilyich followed. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at you. “A meal will be brought in an hour and you will eat. Then you will proceed to the shower as normal and wash yourself.” With that, he stepped out and slammed the door behind him, the lock noisily slid back into place.

You gulped and lowered yourself unsteadily from the bed. You braced it, your legs shaky and weak. You held onto the wall as you edged to the window and peered out into the other room. Ilyich moved his hands before him as he spoke to Yakovna. The latter nodded in interest and turned to grab a folder from behind him. Ilyich took it and opened it as he pointed to a specific line. He smiled and returned the file to the other doctor.

You couldn’t hear through the thick glass but you figured they were talking about you.  _Why were you so important?_  A toy; an animal, really. Used and abused by their monster. You leaned against the glass and your eyes strayed fearfully to the other side of the chamber. The pod was open; empty. Your heart dropped as you searched around for any sign of the soldier. He was gone. Deployed on some deadly mission and his return would mean soon you would be his next target.

–

When an orderly entered with a tray, you sat and ate in detachment. You did not taste the unbuttered sandwich nor the cubes of cheese and sliced vegetables. The fair was much fresher than what was offered to employees in the cafeteria. You would be thankful if you weren’t aware that your luxury was a means of their cryptic ends. You drank a full glass of water to wash down the bland food and waited until a guard arrived to take you away.

You walked to the showers stiffly. Your eyes bounced back and forth as you kept an eye out for the return of the Asset. You knew it was unlikely that he would come charging at you in that moment but you could never expect when he would appear. He was like a phantom; rising in your most vulnerable moments. When you asked the guard about the soldier, he was as silent as ever. You knew the question was futile, but you asked anyway. The anticipation of what was to come was far worse than its fruition.

The water was painfully hot. You welcomed the burn as you stood beneath the stream. You stood with your back to the shower head, alert for any movement in the airy chamber. It was still but for the patter of water and clouds of steam. When you finished, you dried off and dressed in the folded cotton that awaited you on the bench. It wasn’t your usual scrubs but a plain cotton dress with thin straps. It was shapeless but hid little of your figure.

You knocked on the door and waited for it too open. The guard led you back along the chilly corridors. In all your time there, they had not allowed you slipper nor shoe. You were kept helpless in little more than clinical polyester. The dress was even less. Your skin was covered in goosebumps but it could be fear as much as the temperature.

The pod remained empty. You sat at the table and flipped through the pages of your only book. You didn’t read, didn’t even try, only listened to the flutter of pages as you waited.  _What else could you do but prepare yourself for the inevitable?_  Hours passed; sitting, pacing, laying. You stared at the blank walls and ceiling as you drowned in your dread. No sleep; no peace.

Then you heard it. Your heart raced at the clang. Footsteps and a flurry of motion. The lab was dark outside your window but you could see by the ever present light of the pod. You peeked out into the next room. The Asset was limned in shadows as figures in lab coats trailed behind him meekly. Yakovna kept the other doctor at bay as they watched the returned assassin prowling as a wild animal would. It was the same deadly transfixion which had taken him weeks before; the day he had found you in that cupboard.

Your eyes widened but you were frozen in place. The Asset turned suddenly as if he could sense you. Yakovna and the other doctor backed away as the soldier tilted his head and neared the glass with decisive steps. His metal hand slapped against the window so hard you were sure it would shatter. He reached up with his other hand and removed the mask from his lower face. His eyes caught the little light present; a sinister flash in the night.

He brought his hand back again but stopped mid-air. He turned as the doctors had called out for him to stop and he squared his shoulders. Yakovna pointed to the door which would lead him to you. You watched as he turned and tossed aside his mask. His footsteps seemed to move the entire building as he entered the hall and stomped towards you room. The handle turned and the door shifted only slightly. 

A bang and the lock fell loose in the door as the Asset punched his way in. You backed away as he stepped inside, pressing yourself into the corner as you held your hands to your chest. He closed the door, though it was unable to latch, and the room sparked as he flipped the switch. The fluorescent glow was harsh as the space lit up. His eyes quickly found you but he did not approach.

He blinked and neared the table. He pulled out the chair and turned it slightly. He looked to you and pointed to the empty seat. You stared at him and warily parted from the wall. You inched close with small footsteps. He did not move, merely watched as you lowered yourself onto the chair. He nodded and backed away.

You couldn’t look away from him. There was a streak of blood across his forehead and the ends of his fingers, just above the top of his gloves, were stained in red. His black gear shone with even more blood and you gripped the skirt of your dress nervously. He pulled off his gloves one at a time and tossed them on the table. Next he unbuckled the harness from his chest and dropped it with his gloves. The thick one-armed jacket followed and he slung it across the back of your chair; it reeked of dirt and blood. Next he removed the belt lined with knives and other covert gadgets. The belt was coiled next on the table.

He was left in nothing but a tank top, his dark cargo pants, and heavy combat boots. The panels of his arm caught the light as he turned and went to the sink. He twisted the faucet and washed his hands. Next he splashed his face and scrubbed the blood and dust from it. A swipe of his wet fingers over his hair and he stood straight. He spun back to you and you almost fell off the chair as he made to approach.

He stopped himself and lightened his step before proceeding. He peered down at you as you avoided his gaze; your eyes clung to your shaking hands. He lowered himself to his knees before you and his hands covered your smaller ones. He pulled them apart and held them gently as he examined them. You watched the top of his lashes as he turned them over and traced the lines of your palms with his thumbs. He raised them and looked up at you as he brought them to cradle his face. You held his head as he let go of your hands, afraid to provoke him.

His hands fell to your thighs and lightly rubbed them through the cotton. His fingers ran along the tops then sides, tracing the curve of your legs as his blue eyes watched your face. You tried not to quake as he touched you. His hands settled on your hips and his thumbs pressed to your pelvic bones as his pupils grew.

He reached up suddenly and tore your hands from his face. He stood and drew you up with him. He lifted his shirt over his head then bent to unlace his boots. You could only watch as he undressed before you. With his boots kicked aside and stuffed with his socks, he dutifully shoved his pants down and stepped out of them. Entirely naked, you kept your gaze away from his cock.

He got closer and took the straps of your dress between his thumbs and index fingers. He slid them smoothly over your shoulders and the fabric rushed down your figure into a puddle. He offered his real hand and you stared at it anxiously. You knew what would follow. His unexpected gentleness made the reality a little easier.

You took his hand as you hung your head and he led you to the bed. He stopped you beside it and let go of you as he climbed up first. It looked even smaller as he laid across it. He reached for your hand again and pulled you to the bed. You let him guide you and stretched out beside him. He turned your back to his front and pulled you close on the narrow mattress. His hand ran the length of your body; lingering on throat, collarbone, breast, stomach, and edged around your vee.

His nose tickled the back of your head as he smelled you. You closed your eyes as you let his hand rove your figure. The intimacy of his touch made his actions even more unsettling. You felt a twitch along your thigh and braced yourself. He continued to explore every inch of your with his fingers, his other arm beneath you as he hugged you to him. His warmth was almost intoxicating.

He slipped two fingers along your vee. He felt your bud carefully then pressed it until you squirmed. Soft circles reverberated through your body as he moved his fingers. You felt your eyes burn as the tears threatened. You were so weak. This beast came to you, devoured you, and it felt so good. Your fear was not enough of an excuse for your guilt.

His hot breath glossed down the back of your neck as he pressed himself even closer. His metal arm wrapped around you from beneath, his hand cupped your breast as he bent his head and nuzzled your shoulder. Your breath audibly hitched as the tingle spread from your pelvis to your thighs. The swirls deepened to ripples and you reached down to rest your hand on his as he cozened the orgasm from you. You whined, your tears leaking down your cheeks.

His hand descended lower and he pushed your leg over his. You arched your back without thinking. You felt even weaker as your body overwhelmed your mind. As afraid as you were, as helpless as you were, you offered no resistance to him. You were a party to this.  _You wanted this, didn’t you?_  The tears dried up and you sniffed in resignation.  _Stop thinking; just let it happen._

You felt the head of his cock at your entrance and you opened up to him. What little pleasure you could eke out of this place you would. He sank into you patiently. Relishing each inch with a growl. You grabbed onto his metal arm as he thrust into you the first time. You pushed your head back so that it was under his. His nose brushed along your cheek as his lips dragged over your skin. You murmured as he worked inside of you slowly; kindly. It was so unlike his intrusion in the night.

The bed creaked beneath your bodies as you writhed against each other. Your laboured breaths mingling as you moved in tandem atop the small mattress. You gasped with each plunge he took into you. His motion grew more urgent but not rougher. He held you as if you were precious to him, his free hand walked up and down your body from thigh to chest. The flurry built and you mewled once more in orgasm.

He snarled and his arm tightened around you. His teeth nibbled at your ear as he chased his peak. He was humming, almost purring, as his strokes grew longer, deeper. He was muttering as his motion stuttered. “M-m-m-” He whispered with gristle, “Mine.” He hissed as you felt him gush inside of you.

He slowed and the bed steadied beneath you as he stilled. Your walls buzzed around him as he remained inside of you. His entire body relaxed as he kept you close to him and pressed his forehead to the back of your head. His chest was sticky with sweat as it rose and fell against you. Your eyes were wet again and you pulled your hand up to cover your face.

As your body went limp, he began to move again. You felt him stiffen inside of you and the metal frame of the bed groaned. His thrust were hungrier this time. You exhaled in a quiver. It was as he said; you were  _his_.


	5. Seed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This is more a plot-ish chapter. We have stuff happening and there’s not so much smut in it. I hope you all like this and I am excited where this series is taking me. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments if you can :D It would really help with continuing and deciding where it will all go!

You weren’t allowed a clock. Time was an afterthought. You had too much of it. The tedium was punctuated only by the soldier’s intrusions and the doctors’ prodding. Even those constants could not help you track the hours; days; weeks.  _Had it been months?_  You really couldn’t say. They had gifted you a new book, it was just as boring as the last. You spent most of your time pacing the small space; escaping to the showers to wash yourself of the filth that would not leave your skin. You ate the meals they brought without tasting them. Bore their visits with begrudging silence.

The soldier didn’t scare you as much as them. Not anymore. He hadn’t hurt you. Not really. He could be rough; detached; at times, inhuman. At others, he felt warm; soft; a fellow prisoner. At least you imagined it that way. It made it easier. To think that he didn’t do it out of cruelty but desperation. An impossible urge to feel something. An endless search for a sensation his flesh would not allow him. You could see it in his eyes.

Or that was another fiction. Another grasp at hope in this bleak place. Sometimes he would just watch you. He would enter your cell and sit and just watch. His blue irises would follow the flip of the pages, or your nervous twitches, your impatient pacing. You knew what his presence would entail. What had come before. You could usually see it in the blood creased along his knuckles or the grime that caked his clothing.  _How could he be so cruel to others and yet offered your only comfort in this barbarous place?_

That was what he was now. He wasn’t so much a tormentor as a relief. You had let go of your fear of him; though you knew he could change in an instant. In a single second, his touch could harden and he could mangle you just a swiftly. You weren’t afraid of that anymore. You welcomed the thought. Your fatalism shadowed your every thought; your every move. When he came to you, you were his. And when he was gone, you were all alone. He made you forget that.

He didn’t know any of this. How you thought of him; how you felt. He didn’t know the pain swept under the shallow delights of your body. Or maybe he did. Maybe below all that Hydra had made him, he felt the same helplessness.  _Were you that to him?_  No, you were but a physical outlet. An appeasement to the murderous hand of Hydra.

There was an uneasiness in you. You had awoke early. You could tell because there were only a few doctors and their aides in the lab. The pod was showered in cryogenic fog; the asset within. Resting as you could not. You envied him his oblivion. You were queasy. Uptight. If you tried to stand still or sit, you would start to shake and squirm. You felt… _off._

In the midst of your restlessness, you came up to the wide window which looked out onto the doctors in their clinical coats.That allowed them to look in at you. They did. You had noticed Ilyich and another at the glass last time the asset had come. He had you bent over the bed; he had been rougher that day, but not unkind. Before he touched you, he had waited. He had walked the parameter of your room, he eyes scanned every inch of the barren cell until they settled on you.

You couldn’t place your anxiety. It was just as any other. Your breakfast was brought on a tray with a glass of milk. Despite the flurry in your stomach, you sat and ate. You were hungry despite it all. The supplements in the small paper cup were pasty in your throat. You gulped them down reluctantly. The last time you had refused, Ilyich had shoved them down your throat with his fingers. His fingernails had scratched your mouth and you had nearly vomited on him. You took them willingly now. The word ‘no’ was undefined in this place.

The tray was cleared and you went back to your endless pacing. From bed to door, sink to window, circling the room. You felt sick. That wasn’t unusual; this place made you inherently ill. You paused at the window and peered out at the pod. You could glimpse through the fog the shining metal hand of the asset. The deadly weapon which had been so affectionate to you. This wasn’t healthy. You knew it. It was a false light in the dark.

The door opened and you flinched in surprise. You stopped and turned as Ilyich appeared with an orderly in his stead. The assistant followed with the same machine he had brought before. You crossed your arms and retreated as you watched them enter. The door closed with a deafening clang and Ilyich pulled the chair up beside the bed. He patted the mattress once and his beady eyes bore into you.

You neared the bed reluctantly. You felt both watching your every movement. You climbed up and laid down flat; stiff. As you would before any doctor. The dread of his examination drew tight your every nerve. You reclined and Ilyich cleared his throat. You interrupted him before he could begin.

“How long has it been?” You looked to him meekly, “Can you tell me that?”

His eyes narrowed and he glanced at the orderly. Her expression was blank; uncaring. The perfect Hydra minion. He reached for the folder on the cart, on the shelf just beneath the screen, and opened it. He read it silently before he replaced it in its place. 

He leaned forward with palms together, elbows on his knees. “Since when?”

“How long have I been in this room?” You hissed. You were frustrated by his silence.

“Months,” Was his cryptic answer. He smirked and tugged at the hem of your shirt. “Pull that up,” He instructed as he turned to push buttons on the machine. 

You sighed and rolled up the plain cotton. He took the bottle of gel and edged down the waist of you pants until it was just above your sex. You shouldn’t be embarrassed. He had watched his soldier fuck you. Had seen you entirely bare. But you were.

He squirted the gel on your lower stomach and used the wand to spread it along your skin. It was cold. You shivered as he pressed along your pelvis. You looked to his hand and watched the odd examination. His eyes were on the screen as he poked around. You still didn’t know what the machine was. You had never seen it used in the facility before.

He reached over with his free hand and turned a knob. You could hear a noise from the machine, amplified as he twist the knob. You looked over at the screen; an odd black and white funnel; pulse and waves across the screen in vague shapes. He slid the wand around and pressed down again. It sounded almost like a heartbeat. You blinked and squinted at him in confusion.

“I don’t understand,” You said, “What is this?”

He was smiling. The orderly was watching the screen with intent. She took the chart and pulled a pen from her pocket. She scribbled something within. “That…” He pointed to the odd shape at the bottom of the funnel. “Is a child.” He removed the wand and wiped it clean as he spoke. “It is the future of Hydra.”

“What?” You sat up with a jolt, your shirt stuck to the gel along your stomach. “I’m…no…”

“Pregnant,” He stood as the orderly shut down the machine. “Almost three months…at least we know the asset is still fertile.”

“I–” Your eyes rounded as you pulled your knees up to your chest. You hugged them as you huddled against the wall. “No, it can’t be.”

“My dear, you have done your duty to Hydra most pleasingly.” He praised as he gestured the orderly away with the machine. “But you are not done quite yet.” He wandered to the table where the book sat; the one you just couldn’t finish. “For your hard work, we shall grant you new quarters. More comfortable.” He tapped his fingers on the book cover and glanced back at you, “You see, Hydra rewards those who are loyal; useful.”

You gulped as you throat tightened and your stomach twisted. You hung your head as the tears rose. The door opened and closed. Your heart dropped as you slumped onto your side. Your hand slid down to your stomach, still sticky with the gel.  _‘It is the future of Hydra’_. His words echoed in your head.  _No, this was your doom._

-

Ilyich was right. It was a much more comfortable room. The bathroom was separate from the bedroom, the bed was wider and the frame less creaky. There was a shelf with several books along it. Your scrubs had been traded in for a rack of street clothes; shapeless and plain, but less grim than the clinical uniforms. You suspected you’d be wearing the cotton dresses more than the jeans. But you couldn’t relish in your upgrade. Not now that your own ruin was nestled in your stomach.

It was at least a week after before they allowed the asset to visit. You had thought they would not as they had attained their heinous goal. You suspected rather, that they could not stop him entirely. He was angry when he entered. The door burst open as you were sat in the cushioned armchair; much nicer than the metal one in the old cell. You dropped the book as his fiery eyes met yours. He must have found that room empty and it had no doubt riled him. To think that Hydra would take away his only toy.

His hair was greasy with sweat and grime. His face and mask streaked with dust and dirt; blood speckled his clothing. His breath was heavy; furious. You stood as he slammed the door behind him. He marched toward you, his hand snaked around your neck and he gripped the back of your head. He pulled you close. You were shaking.

With his mask still in place, he looked bestial. A dog with a muzzle. You stared up at him, pleading mercy with your eyes. He guided you away from the chair, angled you towards the bed. You let him. You feared any resistance. _Was he angry with his keepers or you?_ Both, perhaps. 

He lowered you onto the bed in a single motion, coming down beside you. His hand remained on your head, his torso pressed to yours as he leaned against you. His other hand came up to cradle your chin. He shook his head as if to say, ‘no running, no hiding’.

His hand moved along your neck, the metal was warm, the leather glove a soft contrast to the plates of his fingers. You reached up shyly and touched the edge of his mask just along his jaw. His brows drew together as you carefully removed it. He leaned into your touch as you lowered the mask from his face. He dipped his head as he rubbed the tip of his nose to yours. He smelled of sweat and blood.

He leaned back as his blues eyes followed his hand and he unbuttoned your blouse. He was methodical; decisive. He cupped your breasts as they were bared. His rage had slaked away with each inch of flesh. You knew the ritual well. He wanted to explore. There were times when he was blunt, unfeeling, but others when he was curious, doting. His metal fingers circled your nipples as he watched them respond, traced the curve of them as his gaze took in every shiver; every squirm.

His fingers tickled along your stomach and the breath whooshed from your lungs. He tilted his head as he looked back to your face. He repeated the motion and you couldn’t help the giggle. “It tickles,” You caught his hand as he tried again. He blinked. You rarely spoke to him. You mimicked his silence; shrouded yourself in it.

You gripped his thick hand, the metal firm; unyielding. Even so, he let you guide his touch. You pressed his palm flat to your stomach. You had noticed a difference but it wasn’t one he would. As well as he had learned your body, he couldn’t know it as well as you. You held his hand there and your heart raced.  _Would he even understand?_  You bit down and stared at his hand.  _Would he even care?_

He drew his arm out from under you and his metal hand left your stomach cold. He sat up and waited for you to do the same. As you did, he watched you closely. His blue eyes searched your face and you found it hard to look at him. He nudged your chin and you relented. He pointed to his ear then your lips. He raised his brow and nodded. He wanted you to speak. You were confused.

“What?” You frowned. He shook his head. He knew you had a secret. He was trained to sense deception. He pointed to your mouth again. You had to tell him. You were a poor liar. 

You swallowed and reached out to his hand; his real one. You undid the strap along his wrist and slid it off. You dropped it on the edge of the bed with his mask. You turned it over and drew along the lines of his palm. Slowly, you pulled his hand closer and slipped it past your open blouse. You pressed his palm against your stomach and held it there firmly.

“Yours,” You said, “Inside.” His blue eyes widened. “I–We have a baby. In there.”

His lip twitched and he gritted his jaw. He blinked a few times as he stared at his hand. And then he did something you never expected. He smiled. It didn’t last as the shadow returned to his face. The thoughts darkened his eyes and a long breath drained his chest. He leaned in and his nose brushed along your cheek as he nuzzled your neck. His metal arm wrapped around you and he pulled you closer. His other remained on your stomach, beneath your own.

“Mine,” His voice was deep; strained. “Ours.”


	6. Broken Protocol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Winter Soldier POV chapter. I hope you all enjoy. There is also a little smut too. Um, remember this is an AU going forward and so our timeline will no necessarily line up with that of the MCU, but I have an interesting idea going forward for how it will pan out :) I love you all and hope you enjoy.  
> Please let me know what you think in the comments :D It would really help as I move forward with the series (also I wrote this chapter super fast because you all responded so nicely to the last and I was just ecstatic and flattered, and oh! thank you)

The siren never stopped wailing. The whine intensified when he awoke. When he was unleashed upon the world. Buildings crumbled and bones cracked under his boots. That was when it was most deafening. When it became him. When he became death. His hands worked without thought. Blood tainted his vision, the scent of it filled his nose, the heat cooled on his fingertips. When the light went out, his mission was complete. As he watched the life drain from their shrinking pupils, the siren called him back.

The Asset didn’t feel much. Could not feel. Could not remember. The life beyond his cell. Beyond his duty. He only did. Only knew what he must do. Kill. 

Until her. She was the only thing he remembered. The only who made him feel. When they read the words to him he forgot everything and awoke anew. Everything but her. She was always there; in the back of his mind. Her wide eyes staring up at him in fear. They reflected his own. Even as his hands wrought destruction, that fear was always there. That which he could not explain. The strand he tugged on but would not unravel.

And she was warm. Soft. He had been ready to dispose of her as he did so many. His hand on her throat as she hid from him. Her eyes hadn’t seen the monster staring back; they had seen his blood, his torture. She had touched him as no other had. She didn’t want to use his body but she had it anyway. He wanted her to feel what he did. He wanted _her._

When he returned this night, a word remained to him. _“Ours.”_  He repeated it to himself. His throat strained against his ill-used voice. He said it anyway.  _“Ours.”_ The darkness shrouded him beneath the moonless sky. The metal door shuddered as he ripped it open and stomped down the corridors. She would be there as she always was. As he was. A prisoner. A tool.

He came upon the lab and looked around. Two men in white coats. They approached him and gestured to the room. The one which he had found empty before. He tilted his head curiously. They had moved her again. He had thought they had taken her from him. He had raged. The siren had blared as he shattered the glass with his fist. It had been since replaced with a board. He could not see within.

He marched towards them, ready to throttle them. “In there,” The taller man pointed again. He stopped before he could seize them. He was confused.  _Why had they moved her again?_  They were playing games. He turned and headed for the door. His boots echoed the few steps to the room and he turned the handle, the lock broke. He entered and looked around. A dark mass waited for him in the shadows.

He flipped the switch to the right of the door. The fluorescent line burned his eyes. He reached to remove his mask; she didn’t like it. But it wasn’t her. He left it in place and lowered his hand. This was not the woman he expected. She was taller, skinnier, colder. Her blond hair was combed neatly and she wore red silk. She gazed back at him with shallow desire. A lust manufactured like everything else in this place. He growled and turned back. 

The men in white coats were in front of the door. He shook his head. They stepped closer together and blocked him from his exit. His metal hand balled into a fist. “She is yours,” The shorter man said. “She is ready.”

His jaw clenched.  _‘Not mine,’_  he thought. He glared at them. He didn’t want this one. She was not his. The men waited. He turned back to the woman and stormed towards her. She flinched as he reached out to her. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled as he spun around and pushed her towards the men. She collided with the taller one.

_“Ours,”_ The soldier rasped. The men held the woman away from them, as if she were contaminated. He neared and they tried once more to deflect him. He shoved the shorter man into the wall and the taller one grabbed his shoulder. His metal fist broke the man’s jaw as he shrugged off the strange woman. He left them in agonized groans. They were not so loud as the mangled screams he had inspired hours before.

He remembered the way. He could hear her heartbeat as he stopped before the door. He knocked gently but knew she could not answer. She was locked in. A caged animal. They were nothing more than that. This lock was harder to crack but it shattered beneath his grip. He entered and a light was already aglow. She was on the bed, her back against a pillow, her eyes tired. 

He looked to her hand as it rubbed a circle on her stomach. She was bigger. He noticed that the last time, too. Every time he came, she was rounder. She moved awkwardly across the bed. Her nightgown hung from the bump as she stood, barely covering her thighs. She moved differently. Her legs slightly wider apart as she touched her lower back. He closed the door softly as she neared.

He got to his knees and she watched him with her curious eyes. He undid his mask and tossed it aside with a clatter. Next he peeled off his gloves one at a time. He lifted the hem of her nightgown and the hand that was really his spread over her stomach. She was warm. He pressed his lips above her belly button and leaned his head against her. Her fingers combed back his filthy hair. He could feel her nerves. He wished she were not still afraid. Beneath her tenderness, she feared him the same as all did.

He wanted to make her forget her fear. Make himself forget. His hand slipped down along her vee, he traced the line of her legs. She shivered and he pushed his fingers between her folds. Her hands were on his shoulders as she parted her thighs for him. He kissed her hipbone as he played with her bud. She liked that. Her body responded to him even if her mind did not.

He dipped his head lower until they were closer to his fingers. He bent as he held himself up with one hand on the floor. Her fingers danced along his shoulders as she gasped. He had never done this before. Never tasted her like this. He could feel her trembling. He lifted her leg over his shoulder and she clung to his head to keep her balance. He explored her; she was sweet.

Her moans filled his ears as he brought his hand up to feel her stomach. She spread a palm over his metal hand. He buried his head deeper and she held him there. She moved her pelvis against his face, her stomach firm against him. The last time he visited, he had been too afraid to take her. Since the life had bloomed within her, he had been careful. She carried a part of him; the human part of him. The sliver she had found within him.

She spasmed and whined as she came. He loved the taste of it. For so long he had been numb that she plucked his senses to entirely. She reminded him of a past he couldn’t grasp. A blur in the back of his mind; a flutter deep in his chest. He hadn’t always been this beast, but he just couldn’t recall what had come before. Only the emotion and only with her.

Her dusky breaths surrounded him. He lowered her leg and stood before her. He lifted her easily and she let him. He sat her on the bed and tugged at her nightgown. She raised her arms and he swept it over her head. His eyes took in every inch of her. Her breasts were swollen and heavy over her growing stomach. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since she had told him. It must’ve been some time. He stroked her stomach with his fingers and hummed. 

He was surprised as her hands came up to the straps of his jacket. She undid the buckles one at a time as he lowered his arms and watched. Her eyes revealed her thoughts; she wanted to say something. He wanted to hear it. He helped her slide the jacket down his arms. Finally, she found her courage.

“A few more months,” She said, “Not long…” He nodded but it was hard for him to speak. To form the words himself. He wanted to talk to her so bad. He had so much to say but he couldn’t possibly put it to words. “I’m….” She hung her head as her voice died. 

He blinked and watched her as she pulled the bottom of his tank top from his belt and rolled it up his torso. He let her. It felt nice; as if she were stripping him of the soldier. “Afraid?” His voice surprised even him. She looked up at him and nodded. He was scared too but that he couldn’t tell her.

He stood and she undid his belt. He realized then that she was as desperate as him. She needed his touch as much as he needed hers. They were bound together in their mutual suffering. By the child within her. He pushed his pants down himself and roughly removed his boots as he untangled the fabric from his ankles. His sock caught in the boots and came off as swiftly. She grabbed his wrist and led him to lay beside her.

He gave himself over to her. Let her control him. It was a different sort of control than he was used to. He laid across the bed as she climbed over him. Her hand ran the length of his hardened cock. She rubbed the head along her slick pussy as she angled herself over him. She sank onto him with a sigh and she lingered at her limit. His hands went again to her stomach. She looked down at them and gave a bittersweet smile.

_“Ours,”_  He said and she nodded. She echoed his word and began to move her hips.

She rode him slowly. He helped her. His hands slipped down to her hips and she rocked on top of him. Her walls were firm around him. He groaned as her clit rubbed against his pelvis. Her juices smeared along his flesh. Her thighs twitched and she threw her head back as she whined. Her breasts bounced as she quickened her pace.

She squealed and leaned forward suddenly. She brought her hands to his shoulders and grinded even harder. She was breathless as she chased her orgasm and her walls pulsed around his cock. The bloom spread from his loins to his stomach and he grunted as he watched the ecstasy twist her features. He came with a grunt and she slowed until he emptied himself within her.

When she raised her head, he saw the trails along her cheeks. She was crying, still grasping tight his shoulders. He dragged his hands from her hips, along her stomach and chest, and wiped away the streams with his thumbs. She sniffled and tried to hide her face. He held her head up and stared at her until her eyes met his. His chest felt heavy. He had caused all of this. He had trapped her in this place with them. With him.

“Sorry,” He uttered in a low tone. So low he wasn’t sure she heard him. 

She lifted herself from him and crawled up next to him. She fell onto her side, her hand on her stomach protectively. Her tears had stopped but her misery remained. His eyes grazed her figure. He felt a sudden urge to hold her. To protect her. He reached out to her and she rolled over so that her back was to him. He rescinded his arm and let it fall to his side. He couldn’t blame her. How could she feel anything for a monster like him.


	7. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non/dubcon sex, mention of blood, self-harming thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re back to our reader so this happens at the same time as the last chapter but obviously it’s all her thoughts with a little extra plot mixed in. Hope you enjoy because this is all I’ve been able to write for three days and it sucks.
> 
> Please let me know what you think and reblog if you can :D It would really help as I move forward with the series. Thank you all again for being amazing and here’s your helping of angst.

The loneliness was most agonizing. At first, it had been Ilyich. His visits had made you anxious. You dreaded his presence more than the Asset. He’d use his machine to look inside you and prick your finger for a dab of your blood. Then the other tests; physical tasks which grew harder as you got bigger. Maybe that was worse than the isolation. Your rounding stomach made life even more uncomfortable. Even more desperate. Hopeless.

This child inside of you had no future beyond these walls. Like you. Like him. They had let him visit less since discovering your pregnancy. Whether his missions had grown less often or they were more concerned with the child, you couldn’t decide. Perhaps he had grown less interested. Whatever force drove him to you had dwindled. You suspected Hydra would follow suit. When you delivered their true experiment, the one hidden in your stomach, you didn’t expect a continued presence. Here or anywhere.

Most tragic was that you would die alone. Without your mother. Without a friend. The doctors and nurses came and went without warmth. The Asset was silent. Inhuman. He couldn’t understand much. He was under their control. He wasn’t really his own person. Your only companion would be torn from you soon enough. The one you tried so much not to grow attached to. The one you couldn’t help but love. 

You rubbed your stomach as you thought. Your legs splayed out on the bed as you leaned against the headboard. You wished you could protect them. To think you were to bring another into this misery. Sentence them to a lifetime of this torture. You thought of it often. Of how they would curse you for your part in their fate. It kept you up at night. Dragged you down during the day. You groaned and closed your eyes, your hand soothing as you drew circles on your bump.

When you heard it, you opened your eyes but made no effort to sit up. There was a small knock. You were tired. You must be imagining things. No one knocked before they entered. The lock clicked then cracked; the knob fell loose and the door swung open.The soldier’s gaze fell to her and he unballed his fists.

His eyes went to your hand. It stopped and you held your stomach as you moved across the bed. Your night gown had grown tighter. It barely covered your thighs and left you entirely exposed. These days, you waddled more than walked. You touched your lower back where the muscles knotted. He reached back and closed the door as you approached him. You weren’t afraid anymore. Not of him.

He surprised you nonetheless. He lowered himself to his knees as you watched. He reached up to shed his black mask and grimy gloves. He tossed them to the floor. He lifted the hem of your nightgown and his hand felt your stomach. Not the metal one, the real one. Next he pressed his lips above your belly button and you shivered. He leaned his head against your stomach and you tentatively brushed your fingers through his hair. It was stiff with dried sweat and dirt. You couldn’t help the tremble in your hands.

His hand slipped from your stomach and tickled along the line of your pelvis and then your legs. You shuddered and he delved deeper. You grabbed onto his shoulders as you welcomed his touch. The only comfort in your endless solitary. His lips were on your hipbone as his fingers found the bud hidden between our folds. You clung to him tighter.

You watched as his head moved, his lips traced along you pelvis until they met his fingers. You gasped as his tongue found your clit. You leaned into him, your stomach against his head. He had never touched you like this before. He wasn’t always rough but he had only ever seemed curious. Clinical. As if he was testing your body. This time was different.

He shifted your leg so that it draped over his shoulder. You moaned as you planted your other foot to keep your balance. You spread your hand over his metal hand and his tongue explored your folds. Warm, tender, diligent. You rocked your pelvis against his mouth.You missed his touch even if you denied it. He had been distant the last time he came. Paced and watched. Nothing more.

You came with a cry. It both surprised and thrilled you. His tongue continued to work as he tasted you. You panted and wavered as he slowly slipped your leg from his shoulder. He stood and your night gown fell over your stomach. He scooped you up in his arms before you could react and carried you to the bed. You let him remove the night shirt as you lifted your arms. His blue eyes roved you, his head tilted, and his lips parted. He caressed your stomach and a low hum rose from him.

You wanted more. Needed more. You weren’t ready to be alone again. You reached over and grabbed his jacket and fumbled with the straps across the front. You undid them clumsily as he watched. You focused on each.  _Don’t think about what would happen, think of now_. You chewed your lip as the words forced themselves to the surface as you pushed his jacket down his arms.

“A few more months,” You said, “Not long.” He nodded as his coat fell over the edge of the bed. “I’m…” You looked down and suppressed the words.

You pulled at his tank top. You could smell his sweat as you removed the layers. You rolled the shirt up his torso and he spoke. “Afraid?” A question. You had only heard him say a few words and that was a new one. You raised your head and nodded. You were more than afraid.

He stood and you unbuckled his belt next. You grew more frantic. You needed the distraction if only for a few minutes. This very act had formed the child inside of you but you could not resist another error. Even if he couldn’t feel as you did, you wanted it. If you could not talk to him, you would touch him. 

He pushed his pants down and he left his boots inside of them. You took his wrists and guided him to the bed. He laid on his back and you threw your leg over him. You straddled him as you took his cock in your hand. You stroked him and rubbed him against your pussy before you sank down. As he filled you, you sighed and let yourself enjoy the ripple it sent through you.

He cradled your stomach with both hands and you looked down at him. You tried to smile but your lips trembled at the gesture. “Ours,” He said. You nodded and repeated it. “Ours.” You began to move atop him.  _Ours_ , the word echoed in your head.  _Not theirs…_

You rocked atop him slowly, his hands on your hips as he led your motion. You tried not to think of the fire burning in your mind alongside the flames licking at your pelvis.  _Never theirs…but you had no choice._  They had kept you, you couldn’t keep them from your child. It was  _your_ child.  _And his_. You couldn’t change that. They couldn’t change that.

You moved quicker as your walls began to buzz. Your bud rubbed against his pelvis and you moaned loudly. His voice mingled with yours in the air. You felt your wetness as it spread along his skin, your thighs shook, and you threw your head back. You breast were heavy as they bounced over your stomach.

You came with a whine and leaned forward, hands on his shoulders as you rode out your climax. You fought to catch your breath as your walls twitched around him. He grunted as his warmth filled you. Your arms shook and the tears frightened you as they tickled your nose. You hadn’t felt them at the corner of your eyes, only as they streaked down your cheeks.

You raised your head and sniffed. You slowly released his shoulder and he let go of your hips. His hands trailed gently along your stomach and chest. A gesture almost loving. He used his thumbs to wipe away your tears but it only made you sniffle again. He held your face between his hands and you were forced to look at him.

“Sorry,” He pronounced the syllables with effort.

You gulped and searched for a response. Anything. It hurt too much. You lifted yourself from atop him and lowered yourself beside him. You laid on your side and held your stomach as it all returned to you. You could feel him watching you. Just watching.  _Why wouldn’t he do anything?_  Even if you asked him, he couldn’t save you. He was  _their_  soldier;  _their tool._

He reached out to you and you rolled away from him. You kept your back to him as you curled up and hid your face behind your hand. With him or against him, you were going to keep this child safe from them. Even if it killed you. You’d rather die trying than lay down and swallow your doom like the pills they forced down your throat.

-

Your mother had warned you that pregnancy would be uncomfortable but there were some changes you could not explain. The way your hair stood on end right before Ilyich and one of his cronies entered. The unusual strength that bent a fork in your hand. The flashes of unquenchable rage. Those came when you thought of the baby. When you thought of the looming deadline. You suspected these were the symptoms they were checking for so often. 

Today Ilyich had come for his usual tests. Strength, reflexes, cognitive. Then the usual look at the baby. His nurse took her notes and set the folder aside. When they observed you, you observed them. You noted the subtle looks between them, the whispers they thought you couldn’t hear, the tics of intrigue as they scratched the nib to paper.

You stood and wiped away the gel on your stomach with a towel. Ilyich checked his watch as he strode to the door. He had been peeking at his wrist for most of the appointment. He was late for something. Some other sick experiment, no doubt. Like Hydra, he was a beast with many heads.

“Give her the supplements. The doses we discussed. And blood from her. Three vials today.” He turned the handle and paused halfway into the corridor. “I trust you to pack up when you are done.”

The nurse went about her work wordlessly. Supplements taken, blood drawn, then pack up the odd machine. You edged around her as you eyed the folder she had set down on the table. You glanced between her and the manilla. The cord of the wand was tangled and she was trying to unknot it without unplugging it.

You touched your stomach and turned. Your other hand hovered above the folder as you peeked again. Your fingers slipped beneath the cover as you listened to her frustrated whispers. You pushed the first paper from the folder. Quietly, carefully along the table. It slipped down to the chair with a subtle flutter. You sat on it before it could draw her attention.

“Ugh,” You grunted to cover your deceit, “My back.”

The nurse glanced over but said nothing. She wrapped the cord around the wand and tucked it away on the cart. You leaned one elbow on the table and she sighed as she took the folder and added it to the cart with your samples and the rest of her tools. You held your chin in your hand as she left you. The door clicked as it always did.

You waited a few moments before you stood. The paper stuck to your thighs and you caught it before it could fall to the floor. The dull font of the typewriter embedded the header at the top and the tight scribble of the nurse and Ilyich filled in the rest. You turned your back to the door and read in an effort to hide it from those who had just left.

_Project Zhibog - Eight Months Observed - Seven Months Impregnated_

_Subject is exhibiting side effects typical to serum without direct exposure. Signs that child will inherit characteristics of serum. Otherwise healthy._

_Supplements given to balance hormonal and nutritional levels. Single tablet to prevent possible negative effects of serum._

_Ultrasound reveals child is bigger than average at this stage in pregnancy. Gestational period uncertain at moment. Operation if required. Survival of child is necessity; progenitor expendable._

The breath rushed from your lungs and your head spun. You braced yourself on the chair and stared at the document. Your death warrant. You shook your head and crumpled the paper between your hands. If they found it here, you suspected it would not enhance your status to necessity. You passed into the bathroom and tossed the paper in the bowl. You watched the paper swirl down the tube but pulled the chain three times to make sure it was truly gone.

You backed out of the room and returned to the chair. Your hips and back ached terribly. You ran your hands over your stomach and watched your fingers gloss over the fabric of your night gown. “They won’t get me,” You whispered as you cradled your stomach, “Or you. I promise…” You closed your eyes and sighed. “I’ll find a way. I have to find a way.


	8. Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non/dubcon sex, mention of blood, mentions of childbirth.
> 
> This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all, hope you enjoy this chapter. Not the longest but it accomplishes some stuffs.
> 
> Please let me know what you think and reblog if you can :D Thank you all again for being amazing and here’s your helping of angst.

He was there again. The soldier visited more often these days. Still, he was silent. Brooding over whatever poor soul had been named as his last target. He was gentler these days. 

When he shared your bed, he was hesitant; doting. Many times he didn’t, he just sat and held your hand or rubbed your back. He helped you stand when you found yourself too round to do so and watched you closely. He was comforting.

He was  _waiting_. Like you. He might be but a shell but he still had some ounce of realization. He stared at your stomach expectantly. A child was coming. A child you could not keep safe. You tried not to think of it but that was when the tears rose. You hid them but he knew. He’d try to touch you then but you couldn’t be near him. Not when you thought of what they would do. To the baby. To you.

That day, you were restless. You had only a few bites of your lunch and he had appeared soon after. You rubbed your stomach as you sat on the wooden chair. It was stiff beneath your heavy figure. He entered, the door opened and closed sharply. 

He saw you and blinked. He stopped short before he began to pace. He stopped before you and nodded to your stomach. You shrugged. He placed his hand on yours. There was dark blood around his nails and his glove was hard and sticky. You flinched and he pulled away. His footsteps filled the room.

You exhaled deeply. You were so tense you felt as if you couldn’t breathe. Ever since you had awoken, you had been uneasy. The nurse checked your vitals and felt your stomach. She left but said nothing. Her and her scribbles.

Your back ached terribly and you grunted as you gripped the table. You had to lay down. You tried to pull yourself up but only dragged the table closer. He turned to you as you grabbed the seat of the chair and tried again. He was beside you in a second. He had your elbow and he pulled you up easily. 

A warmth spread down your legs. You groaned at the knot in your stomach. Your entire body hurt. You grasped his arm as you looked down, a clear fluid ran down your thighs and soaked the skirt of your loose dress. You gasped and looked to him desperately.

“Oh no,” You clung to him as the pain reverberated. “No, no, no.”

His eyes rounded and you squeezed his arm harder. He grabbed your wrist and slowly removed your hand. He scooped you up and you whimpered. He carried you to the bed and laid you down. You whined as he got to his knees beside the bed and took your hand. You spread your fingers across your stomach and gritted your teeth.

“It’s coming,” You panted, “The baby…”

You glanced over at him and his face went pale. His eyes flitted to the door and he grimaced. His features contorted. He nodded and patted your hand. His other hand pushed back your hair and he caressed your forehead. You cried out as the pain deepened again and his fingers wrapped around yours.

The doctors appeared when you began to shriek. You pushed your head into the pillow as you writhed on the bed. The soldier clung to you, his metal thumb rubbed the back of your hand. 

Ilyich was a shadow in your haze. The nurse’s voice broke through and turned harsh. You looked over as the soldier shook his head. He stayed on his knees.

“Leave him,” Ilyich said, “Worry about the baby.”

Your skirt was pushed up entirely and your underwear cut off. The nurse bent your legs and you were on display before the several other men in white coats. The soldier moved. He kept his hold on you as he sat on the bed beside you. You latched onto him as another ripple of agony tore through your body.

“It will be some time yet,” Ilyich turned to his audience, “It is unexpected for this level of pain at this stage. So early but…this is a child unlike any other.

“What about the mother?” Yakovna asked as the nurse scribbled on the chart.

“We must allow the birth to occur naturally,” Ilyich advised, “As we have observed, the subject has been prosperous in her gestation. She has successfully carried to term without difficulty.”

“As yet,” Another doctor, Leovich or Lyonov, suggested. You couldn’t tell one monster from the next. “The birth itself…”

“Dangerous, as we’ve predicted, but should the child live, it will all be worth it,” Ilyich interjected, “We can always find another host for future incubation.”

You were breathing so loud you could barely hear. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t expected. This day would likely be your last. If the pain were proof of anything, it most certainly was the end. You cried out and the soldier rubbed your forehead as he shifted even closer.

“Will he accept another host?” Yakovna asked.

“We don’t need him to accept the host,” Ilyich assured. “We can extract what we need when he is wiped.”

“We must recalibrate,” Yet another doctor, Frolov, piped in. “Anything so sensitive as that…his programming must be updated.”

“We have more pressing matters,” Ilyich sneered. “Don’t we, Frolov. First, we must prepare for the child. Artificial incubation if necessary, hmm? It is time. You all have your orders. The child will be here before tomorrow.”

-

The woman screamed again. It had been a long time since it began. Even he could tell. Her hand was in his as he watched her suffering. He felt a peculiar pang in his chest for her. Hours ago he had watched the life drain from another but here he was, wanting to save another.

Her grip was tight. He had never felt anything so completely. She held him by more than his hand.

The woman in grey peered between her legs and looked to the man in white. The soldier wiped the sweat from her brow as she moaned. She was exhausted. Her face scrunched in pain and fatigue.

The man in white said something. The woman in grey replied. They spoke to her, the one on the bed, and she shook her head. They repeated the word. “Push.” 

The man knelt on the bed between her legs. She grunted and roared. She squeezed his hand ever tighter and he bent over her. He held her as her entire body tensed.

She hissed through her teeth and pushed again. Her body responded to their voices as if they were the only sounds she could hear. Her head lolled against him as she breathed harder and harder. 

She wailed as she sank into the pillow and her other hand latched onto his shoulder. She pulled herself up and her nails clawed at his vest. She screamed and shook. 

She let go of him and another set of cries was added to the stolid room. Her hand went limp but he couldn’t let go of her. The man in white backed away from her body as her legs slipped across the mattress. The woman in grey tended to her as the squirming child was cut free.

They wrapped the new life in a large square of cotton and the man in white ordered his companion before handing the bundle over. The woman in grey neared the other side of the bed and the weak woman moaned as she tried to sit up. He helped her lean against the pillows and she took it with tearful smile.

“…feed…” Was the one word he understood as the man in white spoke.

The soldier leaned over the woman beside him and she pushed back the blanket to look down at the child. She trembled as she gazed at the delicate being and he touched her shoulder. She turned to him and nestled close to him as she held the child up. He tilted his head and stared. His vision spun and he blinked.

He bent closer and whispered. “Ours.” The other voices shrouded his own. Her eyes met his and she nodded.

“Asset, retreat,” The man in white ordered. The soldier’s head snapped up and his metal fingers formed a fist. He peeked at the child again. “Asset…return to your keepers. You require configuring. Comply, soldat.”

His jaw locked and he stood. He didn’t want to go but his body wasn’t his own. He marched away from the bed, his boots were heavy and echoed in his head. He passed the man in white and stopped. His metal fingers released but he could do no more. He carried on and opened the door. The halls were empty and cold. Lonely.

He walked until he reached the room of men in white coats; the tables, the machines, the burning lights. He sat and they approached. Shadows closing in on him. The single voice began in his ears.

_Longing._  He longed for her warmth. To look upon the baby. Their baby. 

_Rusted._ He stretched his fingers over his knee. His hand didn’t feel like his. 

_Furnace_. A heat spread over him as he closed his eyes. He could see their child on the other side. 

_Daybreak._  A light bloomed within him. His eyelids turned white and his chest fluttered. Seventeen. How long had he been there? And her? How long would they languish? 

_Benign._  His head fell forward and the world began to dissemble. 

_Nine_. Her face faded from him and the cries hushed. 

_Homecoming._  He belonged here, but they didn’t.  

_One._  He had one purpose. One end. 

_Freight car._  Them. Get them far from here.

-

Ilyich and the nurse had left you an hour ago. You were tired and sore. You had never been in so much pain but you barely noticed. That turmoil inside distracted you. Your smiles were washed away by tears. 

You were weak but the warmth in your arms gave you strength. The babe suckled at you hungrily and you smiled down at him. He was beautiful and that hurt more than anything. He wasn’t yours and yet he felt like a piece of you. He had your lips and his father’s eyes. His father’s blood. That was his curse. His fate.

You laid against the headboard and clung to him. You didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. He was a beacon. A sign. Hope. Maybe one day he would be good. Maybe he would be saved.  _Maybe…_  In your arms was so much possibility even if in this place, there was only inevitability.

“I don’t care what they call you,” You whispered to him as the tears trickled down your nose, “You will be my Luka. My light.” You cooed and he drew away from your breast, “Such a strong boy. You will need that strength.”

You closed your eyes and stroked the baby’s head as his breath evened out. You sank into the pile of pillows and sighed. You had never wanted him, but now you needed him. You embraced him and rocked back and forth. As much a comfort to yourself as him. 

You thought of the soldier.  _Would he take Luka from you?_ If they told him to, would he do it as easily as he had left you earlier. You recalled the single word he had said. The tender whisper against your cheek. “Ours.”  _No, theirs._

You knew they would take him, eventually. You’d never be ready for it, but for now, you would hold him. For as long as you had, you’d love him.


	9. Reprogrammed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: blood, violence, death.
> 
> This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh.
> 
> Please let me know what you think if you can :D Thank you all again for being amazing and here’s your helping of angst

You had a month with your son. You counted each day he stayed with you. Each day the winter soldier was absent. You hadn’t seen him since Luka’s birth. It was eerie. You missed him. Your tormentor had become your protector and he was gone. So it seemed.

Luka was healthy. He grew a lot in his first month. He was bright-eyed and oddly alert. He kept you comfort in the lonely night, made your recovery easier. Your body was not what it was. 

More had changed than the usual wear of pregnancy. More than just the child against your chest. That same unexpected strength that the doctors had marvelled at, the flashes of rage when they came to check your child, the nightmares that woke you but faded away as soon as you opened your eyes.

And the soldier was gone. You thought of him even though you told yourself not to. You were too afraid to ask after him. You never asked for anything. Not from those who had taken everything. Those you knew would eventually take your life.

Hydra’s experiment had been a success. They had bred the soldat. Would they try again? With you? Or some other poor soul? It felt wrong to think of it. You had seen the suffering in the soldier’s eyes; you had shared it with him. You held it in your arms.

When they came, you were sleeping. You were awoken by the shift of the mattress. Luka’s body moved from beneath your arm. He cried and you reached out for him. You caught his wrist and the nurse tugged on him.

“Give him back,” You growled. Your chest seethed with fiery rage to see this woman hold your baby. “He’s mine.”

“He is the property of Hydra,” She said evenly and tried to bent back your fingers. 

You clung to Luka and got to your knees. You brought your other arm up and your fist met the nurse’s nose with a crack. She sputtered and loosened her hold on your child. You swept him away and shimmied back across the bed.

You stood and another figure appeared in the grey. Ilyich grabbed at Luka and you swung again. Your hand grazed his cheek and you sensed another. The nurse appeared and Yakovna. You were cornered.

“No, you cannot have him,” Luka began to wail as you backed away from his abductors. “He is mine. My only–”

You lashed out again as Yakovna grabbed for him.

“You must give us the child. We must tend to him.” Ilyich soothed, “It is for his own good.”

“I know what you do to people,” You elbowed the nurse away as she tried again. “Not him. Never him.”

“He is not yours. Of your body but not your will.” Ilyich smirked but made no move. “He is special. Like his father.”

“No, no, no." 

You tried to skirt back across the bed but Yakovna blocked you. You felt a jab in the back of your arm and looked back to find a syringe sunk into your flesh. 

Your head spun and you looked down at Luka as your vision swirled. The nurse had him before you could back away and you reached out for him. You fell and were caught by a pair of unseen arms.

"I'll…” Your lips were heavy and your tongue swollen, “…kill you…” Your eyes rolled back as you were dropped onto a cloud, “…all.”

-

The soldier opened his eyes. Streams of mist washed over his body, the glass opaque from the chill. He didn’t feel the cold. Not anymore. A mission awaited him and yet the pod was closed. His lashes were heavy as he looked around him. Only the fog.

He could hear a faint noise. He tilted his head. He was used to the voices; the men in white and their titters. This was something more. High-pitched. Agonized. It sounded much like the voice inside his head.

He blinked. He couldn’t move otherwise. Not without the words. He shouldn’t even be awake. He listened. The same noise. The same cry. Distant yet close. It didn’t stop.

He heard the doctors too. The noise of their machines, the tap of their shoes on the sterile floor. Above it all was the cry. It was all he could think of. 

His thumb twitched. And then his index. The middle finger. Then the whole hand. A fist. The other two. The one that wasn’t his. His arms moved without his consent. He was used to that feeling and yet this felt more like him.

He tried to wave away the mist and frost. Tried to see through the cold glass. His hands pressed flat to it and balled again. He pulled back and hit the glass with all his force. He needed to see what the sound was. That sickening noise that made his chest feel hollow.

The glass cracked on his second hit. The voices stilled but the cry got louder. He struck again and the wall around him shattered. He was blinded by the sudden light. He vision hazed and he was stuck in place.

He looked down at the harness at his shoulders. He growled and grabbed the right bar with his metal hand. There was someone in front of him. They were saying words he did not know.

“Longing. Rusted. Furnace." 

The words made him angry and he bent the metal away from him. A guttural snarl escaped his gritted teeth as he twisted the harness. 

"Daybreak. Seventeen. Benign.” He freed his right arm and slipped his left free from its bound. He felt his muscles contract but he shook away the feeling. He looked around. That noise. It was louder. Closer.

“Nine. Homecoming. One. Freight car.” The man came nearer and the soldier found the noise. A small figure in a clear basket. Tubes connected as it writhed and wailed. The soldier caught the man by his neck and throttled him.

“Mine,” Was the only word the soldier could say. The only he could think.

He threw the man away from him. No more words. 

There was an echo of the cry. This one more distant. Muffled by walls between them. He knew that voice. It was shrill, worn. It had been screaming for a while. It was her.

Another man came towards him with the same words. He hurt him too. A third, this one with a gun, and he turned it away before the bullet ciuld fly. He shot the man through his chest and turned the barrel on the rest. The white coats turned red as the smoke and metal filled the air.

He shoved a woman away from the babe in his cage. She screamed and he silenced her. Her grey uniform was stained with her life. He knew her. Had seen her with his woman. She was cruel to her.

A siren blared around him. He remembered it. The last he heard it, he had found her. Hiding. Where was she now?

He moved around the room. His mission was to get her out. Get the child out. He never failed.

Several men fell at his hand. Those who had ordered a dozen more from him. Who had programmed him to drain their blood. He found the clothes they kept for him. He dressed as other men appeared. He took their guns too. And more.

He neared the child and stared at it. The room smelled of blood. He unhooked the tubes as carefully as he could. The child cried and squirmed. It’s blue eyes looked familiar.

When he lifted the child, it no longer cried. He looked down at the babe as his small hand balled against his chest. He cradled him in his arm, his other hand held a gun. Life and death balanced in his arms.

He swept through the room. He followed her voice. She was angry. Desperate. He could feel it. More men, more bodies. He stepped over their lifeless limbs but the baby didn’t cry at the violence. He only nestled deeper against his chest. Listening for the new beat that had started there.

Her door was open. He heard crashing from within. The screaming had stopped. He kicked the door in. Another man in a white coat, this one he recognized. His face was hard to forget. He and the woman were fighting. A needle raised above them as she held it away from her.

The soldier raised his gun as the man turned to look at the intrusion. He covered the baby’s ears and fired. The man collapsed as his blood spattered across the woman. She looked at him and her mouth fell open. Her eyes fell to baby. 

“Go,” He uttered. “Us.”

-

When you woke, the lights were on. It was day. Crooked across the bed, you recalled the absence beside you. Luka was gone. Your baby. Your light. Your life.

You sat up. Your head pounded and you shook out the echoes. You stood and paced. You trembled. What could you do? How could you get him back? They couldn’t just take him. What were they doing to him?

You screamed and ran to the door. You beat on it and hollered. “Give him back! Give him back!” Your fists hammered the metal. You didn’t care how much it hurt. 

You shouted until no words were left. Until it was nothing but a gutteral wail. You wouldn’t stop. Not until Luka was with you again. Not until you were dead.

You could hear little beyond the door. Nothing above your screaming. But you prayed that they heard you. Your fury. You rage. Hydra would not have Luka.

You stopped only as a siren erupted. Familiar. Nostalgic. The metal swung inward and almost knocked you over as you stumbled to evade it. Ilyich entered with a scowl.

“Shut up,” He was angry, frantic even.

You backed away as he grabbed for you. He had another syringe. You dodged away from him as he tried to stab you. You weaved away from him and he came at you again. You caught his wrists and held him away from you.

“You dumb bitch! Shut the fuck up.” He snarled. 

You were trapped in the awkward dance, leaning back as you tried not to get poked by the needle. You were surprised by your own strength as you kept him at bay. You felt his wrists, so brittle in your hands. He grunted in pain as you knocked into a chair and squeezed tighter.

You hit the table and the wall as you struggled against him. You felt stronger every time the needle got closer. You twisted his hand so that it was pointed sideways, another jolt and it’d be aimed right at his throat.

He turned his head and you sensed the sudden shift. You followed his gaze as the gunshot tore the air. He went limp as his blood splattered across you and you let him fall at your feet. 

You stared at the soldier in the doorway. He held Luka in his right arm, his metal hand lowered the gun. You smiled as the baby babbled and stirred against his chest. 

“Go,” The soldier said. “Us.”

You neared and he handed over Luka. You thanked him and hugged your son. He nodded and led you back to the hall. He walked over the bodies he had left in his stead and bent to search each. He took ammunition and knives from them. 

He unbuckled one of their gun belts and wound it around your waist. He shoved a pistol in it and urged you onward. He killed two more men. Two deafening shots. 

He took a jacket from one and draped it over your shoulders. He gave you the boots of the other and tied them tight to keep them in place. You hid Luka under the thick jacket and followed.

He wove through the labyrinth decisively with you in tow. Led you to a wide metal door just past the lab. You passed his broken pod and the room of blood and machines. You came out beneath a high peak, the mountain watched as he led you across the frosted crags.

“Go,” He reached back and grabbed your elbow. He held onto you as he hurried you down the narrow path. “Cold soon.”

He marched you along and you hugged Luka closer. He was warm against you. He did not fuss. He never did. Not with you.

You looked up at the soldier as he led you onward. His blue eyes sparkled and his forehead wrinkled as he thought. His lips moved as if talking to himself but he kept his gaze ahead of him.

"You saved Luka.” You whispered. “You saved us.”

“Not yet,” He replied and his grip tightened. “Far.”


	10. Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non/dubcon sex (series), general angst
> 
> This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t expect to post anything any time soon but I wrote this and am posting this at work.
> 
> Please let me know what you think and comment/kudos if you can :D Thank you all again for being amazing and here’s your helping of angst.

 

The soldier stopped you as the sun began to rise. The mountains were behind you and the road wound ever on. He kept to the brush and barren trees. You hugged Luka to you and followed closely. His rifle was held at the ready as his boots crushed the dead grass.

There was a house hidden in the trees. Long abandoned and half decrepit. When he opened the door, it came off its hinges. You stood just behind, shivering as your son snuggled closer to your breast. He turned, his blue eyes would not meet yours as he waved you inside.

You passed through the door frame. He shied away as if afraid to touch you. He entered only as you neared the sofa near the wall. He went to the fire stove and twisted the wrought iron handle. The scent of ashes filled the room. 

“Stay,” He said as he stood straight and turned to you. He neared and touched the hilt of the gun at your waist. “Shoot them.”

He took the gun from your belt and held it out hilt first. You cradled Luka with one arm and grabbed the pistol. His hand wrapped around yours and he angled around you to aim your arm. 

“Like this.” He released you as you held the gun aloft. “Listen.”

He backed away and returned to the door. He set it back in place as he left you. You stared at the door. He didn’t say much. He never did. But he was…anxious. you’d never seen him as anything but certain.

You sat on the thin sofa. The springs were broken and the cushions torn. Luka fussed and you lifted your shirt beneath the jacket to feed him. He was hungry; rough.

You rested the gun on the arm and waited. Luka finished and nestled against your chest to doze. It was almost an hour before the soldier returned. He had an arm full of wood and a dead rabbit dangled from his fingers.

He took the rifle strapped across his back and set it against the wall. He stacked the wood on the stove and stoked them. The flames crackled and he left the door open.

He sat back and set to skinning the rabbit. He worked diligently. You closed your eyes as you listened. He rose and his heavy boots walked the floorboards. The noise of his search filled the leaning house as you felt Luka’s warm breath against your chest.

You looked over as he knelt by the stove and watched his shoulders. He kept distracted by the task and finally stood. He turned and blinked at you. He was hesitant. He came close and offered a small bowl of cooked rabbit meat.

“Eat.” He said as you took the bowl. “Sleep. Leave soon.”

You nodded and thanked him. He flinched and retreated. He sat and ate the rest of the rabbit from the pan. His blue eyes clung to the door. He looked troubled. His gaze distant, far away.

He set aside the pan and his hands settled on his gun. He sighed and you finished the bowl. You slumped down and held Luka close. You peeked at the soldier one last time before you dozed. Your dreams swirled with visions of his metal arm and the shadowed figures of evil men.

You woke with a start. The rifle was against the wall just beside the fire stove. The gamey smell of rabbit and wood permeated the air. You heard movement in the next room; felt it at your breast. Luka was hungry again. You pulled your shirt up and kept him warm beneath the jacket as you stood.

You moved carefully as he latched on. It was almost painful as he suckled. You neared the door and found a small kitchen. A wartime icebox and dusty old stove. The door to the pantry was open. You crept around the counter to the small cupboard.

The soldier was inside sorting through rusty and dented cans. He had a bag on his arm that he loaded with his wares. Not much but something. His jaw twitched and he looked to you in surprise. His eyes lingered on the squirming babe under your coat. He nodded and carried on. 

You backed away. Content that he was still there. You returned to the sofa. The gun rested on the arm where you left it. You took it in one hand a listened to trees outside. Only the wind and the meek critters.

The soldier entered and plunked down his bag. He left again, the stairs creaked dangerously at his ascent. When he returned he held a pile of clothes. He sifted through them and offered you a pair of wool pants, a knitted sweater and thick fleece lined jacket. They were made for a man but would be warmer than what you had. Less telling.

You wrapped Luka in the soldier’s jacket and placed him on the sofa. You changed silently as the soldier did the same. You didn’t look at him as you stripped quickly. It was cold. The fire was embers and you could see your breath.

As you pulled the sweater over your head you looked up to find him staring back. He took the sheet he gathered with the clothes and tore it in half. He handed you a piece and nodded to the baby. You wrapped him carefully as he babbled.

The soldier took the other half and knotted it. He slung it over your shoulders and stretched out the middle. A sling for Luka. You thanked him again and he frowned. He stepped back and you picked up Luka to slip him into the sheet. You put the coat on over him and he stirred again. Hungry still.

The soldier opened a can with his knife. Beets. He offered you the pickled vegetables and you accepted without complaint. Better than nothing. He took a few himself and killed the embers. He wiped his hands and pulled on a pair of faded leather gloves. Clever. 

He hung the bag on his back and took the rifle in hand. He pointed to your errant pistol and you shoved it into the holster at your waist. He considered you and felt around beneath his coat. He held out a knife and you stared at the gleaming edge.

You took it. What was another weapon? If it came down to saving Luka, you’d gladly wield either. You tucked it into the belt beside the gun. He turned and squared his shoulders. You pulled up the hood on your coat as he tucked his long hair into a hat.

“Go,” He said as he dislodged the broken door and stepped out into the pale Russian autumn.

-

You didn’t stop for longer than an hour for two nights. You hid in the trees. Sometimes you had a fire, other times you didn’t. The soldier always kept watch. His finger always ready on the trigger. You had yet to encounter another person.

One morning as you sat and ate, he taught you how to shoot. Tried to. He aimed your arm and positioned your hand. You hit the tree three times and you moved on. The sound could draw your pursuers, if he had left any.

On the fourth night after your escape, you found a barn beside a burnt out house. You sat in the loft and cooed at Luka as he grew drowsy. The soldier was below, pacing with his rifle. The can of beans you shared left your stomach heavy.

You were about to sleep yourself when the ladder groaned. He pulled it up after him and set his rifle down. He grabbed his bag from against the wall and unzipped it. He pulled out a pair of scissors and neared you.

He held them out to you and removed his hat. His dark hair felt around his face and he tugged on it. You tilted your head and set Luka down in the nest of straw you’d made him. You took the scissors and the soldier turned to sit in front of you.

“It might not be very good,” You warned him. He shrugged. 

You took a shank of his hair and snipped. You cut your mother’s hair a few times but she usually tidied it up herself. You cut until there was only a couple inches left. You tried to even it out as best you could as you moved around him. It didn’t look too bad.

“I think that will do,” You announced. He nodded and you gave him the scissors.

He took them and put them back in his bag. He scratched the stubble along his jaw and found his hat. He pulled it over his head and glanced out the tall window. You watched him as he hung his head and sighed. His hand rested on the window ledge.

“Do you have a name?” You asked. “Can you remember it now?”

He didn’t move. You weren’t sure he’d heard you. You waited silently but he didn’t answer. He just pushed himself away from the window and slid the ladder back through the hatch. 

“Sleep.” He said and left you with Luka. You looked over at the slumbering baby. He looked just like his father. He was big for his tender age and hungry more than not. He’d bleed you dry if you did not find refuge soon.

-

You lost count of the days as they melded into nights. You were ragged, exhausted, and barely sane. Met only by the cries of Luka and cold grunts of the soldier.

He gritted his teeth and scowled as he stared at the men just beyond the hill. You’d come to the border but soldiers manned almost every meter. He glanced over at you, his eyes settled on the lump in your jacket. 

He turned and pointed back the way you came. He waited for you to lead and followed quietly through the brush. Soon the snow would fall and travel would be even more tedious. Food more meagre.

You walked back down the crooked path you’d left. He pulled you along by your wrist as he passed you. He was pensive. Jumpy. He kept looking behind you, bracing for a fight.

You walked three hours until he stopped again. Luka was crying and your breasts ached as you hadn’t enough milk to feed him fully. 

A railroad stood just ahead. He led you to them and placed his right hand on the iron. He pursed his lips and stood. He ushered you away behind some bushes. He squatted and you got to your knees as he signalled you to be quiet.

The sky grew dim as you waited and his head quirked as he touched his ear. He signalled you to stand and the lights of the rumbling train lit up the horizon. You realized what he had planned as he swung his rifle around to his back. He led you along the bushes as he kept his sights on the nearing train.

“I can’t run.” You whispered. “I’m…too tired. My body…”

He raised a finger and turned to you. He touched your zipper then patted his chest. You frowned and he repeated the motion. You undid your jacket and he reached behind you to help unloop the sling.

He looked into your eyes as he shyly touched Luka. You let him take the baby and he nodded. He strapped Luka snugly to his chest. He moved his rifle against his shoulder and took his bag off. He looped it around your shoulders and turned around.

“Up,” He pointed to his back. 

You gaped at his broad shoulders. You shook your head and the train roared louder as it got closer. He bent his knees and waited. You looked around and jumped up to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs at his waist. 

He grabbed your legs and adjusted you on his back. The rifle pressed against you uncomfortably. He took a breath and neared the edge of bushes as the rails began to tremble noisily. 

“Hold on.” He warned as the train blew past and he set off in a run alongside it. You clung to him as you jostled against him. Luka began to cry as three bodies hurtled along the bumpy grass.

The soldier leapt and you exclaimed. He caught the side of the train with his left arm and the wind caught you in its tunnel as he gripped the side of the boxcar.

He scaled it carefully as not to crush Luka between him and the metal. He stretched out and unhooked the bar holding the door shut. He slid with the panel as it opened and quickly angled all three of you inside.

He staggered and you dropped your feet to keep from falling. You let go of him shakily and he spun around to face you. He shushed the baby as he removed the sling from his shoulder. He gave you Luka and watched you take him with forlorn eyes.

He quickly turned and grabbed the large door. He wrenched it shut so that the bar fell back into place. As the car went dark he neared you and guided you behind a stack of boxes. He took the bag from your shoulders and dropped it between you.

He sat and you did the same as he placed his rifle across his knees. You rocked Luka until he quieted and the soldier slid the bag over to you. You were learning to read him.

You dug inside and pulled out a box of stale crackers he found in a storehouse and a can of chili better suited to dogs. You opened the can and divided the cold fare up, handing a metal cup of slop to him.

He took it and sat back. His shadow yawned and you felt his stare. You took a gulp of the chili from the can. Luka began to murmur. He was still hungry. Once you ate, he could too.

“My name was James Buchanan Barnes.” His voice frightened you and you lowered the can as you tried to see him through the blackness. “And I am sorry for the things I did to you…and the kid. I never…”

He went quiet again and sniffed. You shivered as your heart hammered in your ears. You didn’t know what to say. So you said nothing and ate your dinner. 

The soldier, rather this stranger, James Buchanan Barnes, sat in penance across from you in the shuddering boxcar. The cold air thick between you as you barrelled towards the unknown.


	11. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non/dubcon sex (series), general angst.
> 
> This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty. So I wrote the next part at last. Our odd couple are still on the run. Also, this chapter will reveal a lot about the time period :)
> 
> Please let me know what you think :D Thank you all again for being amazing and here’s your helping of angst.

You left the train behind. Kept away from the tracks and to the brush as the soldier, or James, led you into the unknown. You were content as long as it was away from Hydra. As long as you were moving. You traveled by night and rested a couple hours only before you kept on. 

Food was scant. You kept away from cities and towns. Unseen, perhaps lost. James would leave you to hunt a rabbit or some other meagre creature. Sometimes he returned with a box of oats or a can of stew; sometimes more. You knew it was stolen food but your stomach ached too much to care. 

Luka devoured you after each meal and in between. His own hunger was apparent. He cried at times and you worried he would draw unwanted company. James waited while you quieted him, as you let him suck at your sore breasts; almost barren now. 

Yet he continued to grow by the day, despite your shortcomings, despite your exhaustion. His little body grew heavier with each step forward. Some days, James carried you until he found a place to rest. He kept watch as you slept, only an hour for himself as you ate and tended to Luka. 

Still, he was silent. You didn’t know if it was because his words were still buried deep or because he didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know either. So you carried on into the winter nights, fleeing the unseen pursuers.

You reached the German border at dawn one day. It was weeks since you’d chased the train down the rails. The sun was hidden behind cold clouds and the sky pale with the threat of snow. Luka was wrapped in a thick wool blanket James had found and nestled in the front of your coat. You clung to him to keep both of you warm. 

James walked a foot ahead of you as he always did. He left the rifle by the train, not wanting to draw unwanted attention. He kept his hand by the pistol on his hip, your own hung just above your thigh. He emptied the chamber sometimes and showed you how to load it, how to aim it. But shooting air at trees was nothing like firing metal into flesh.

“Where are we going?” You asked at last. 

He didn’t answer and kept walking.

“Please, James, I’m tired. Luka’s tired.” You pled as your boots grew heavy on your feet. “If we continue on, I will die.”

He stopped and turned back so quickly you nearly collided. The air puffed from his nostrils into a frigid cloud before him. He stared down at you, his eyes wandered to the little bundle against your chest.

“West,” He said. “We must continue west.”

You frowned as you thought. You were far from the small Russian village where you were born. Far from the facility where your life had been torn from you, but never far enough from Hydra. You couldn’t speak German or English. Even if you could, you knew you couldn’t stay. 

“The border…” You began.

“There will be many guards but there is away. I remember…” He paused and looked around the frozen field. “When I was…When Hydra…I remember crossing.” He lowered his head and sighed. He turned his back to you again and fell back into step. “We go west. We’ll find a way across the line.”

You kicked yourself after him, carefully not to catch your toe on the divets in the ground. You rubbed Luka through your coat as he fidgeted. His breaths were even still. He dozed as he did most days.

“And we will rest soon.” He said over his shoulder. “When we find cover.”

-

It grew harder to avoid the towns and cities. Germany was much smaller than Russia. Your nights were spent walking and the days spent hiding. A week into your trek, James brought you a change of clothes. A pair of jeans, a tee, and a loose sweater. A jacket and boots too. They fit much better. He even found a proper onesie for Luka. 

He changed as well. He hid his gun under the faded green sweater that fit a bit too snug at the shoulders. His beard had grown thick and his hair was starting to even out. He gave you a hat to tuck your hair into and you almost looked normal again. Almost.

“I got a car,” He announced as he sorted through his bag. “We can make the border in a couple of days.”

“You stole it?” You asked. He rarely spoke first, if at all.

“Not from someone who can’t afford it.”

“This is Soviet territory, no one can afford it.” You argued.

“Would you rather walk?” 

You stayed quiet and tickled Luka’s stomach as he laid on his wool blanket. “No. We need to go as far as we can.”

He neared and looked down at you and Luka. The little boy was more alert these days. He smiled and blinked at the things he saw. He grabbed onto your finger and tried to pull it to his mouth. He was hungry as ever. James lowered himself to sit beside you, not close enough that you touched but enough to feel his warmth.

“He is well?” He asked. You looked to him, his blue eyes sorrowful as he watched the child.

“Healthy, despite everything. Big,” You turned back to Luka. You reached down and lifted him. “You should hold him.”

“What?” James eyes widened as you held Luka out to him. The baby peered up at the man wondrously and reached for him. “No…I don’t want to hurt him.”

“He is strong,” You assured him. “And he’s your son. You hold him.”

You stared at him. His jaw tensed and his nostrils flared as he thought. He swallowed and finally took Luka from you. Stiff at first, he cradled the baby in his right arm and carefully rested him against his chest. Your lips threatened to curve as you watched his little fingers dance in the air. 

James’ brow furrowed as he felt the child move against him then slowly, the tension left his face and his long lashes flicked up and down. He peeked over at you, surprise and calmness smoothed his features.

“You can’t hurt him,” You said. “I know you can’t.”

He looked to Luka and brought his other hand up to let him grab it. You felt a knot in our chest as James held his child and you slowly stood. James quickly glanced to you and you waved away his concern.

“I’ll make dinner,” You explained as you moved around the crooked shed. “I found a can of something. No label. It will be a surprise.”

He nodded and returned his attention to Luka. You watched them a moment before you turned away. Usually, you felt so cold, so incomplete without Luka on your chest. Not this time. You felt safe, even in the midst of uncertainty.

-

Night time. The sky was black; the moon hidden in its silky depths. You waited a week for the lunar beacon to whittle away. James counted the days and his anxiety grew more obvious. Your own twisted your stomach and wrenched your chest. You’d have one chance and failure could mean all your lives.

You knelt in the ditch as James peeked over the top. You could hear the guards, hear the tinker of their guns as they held them at the ready, see the glare of their muzzles beneath the border lights. Luka was quiet, almost frighteningly so. James knelt again and pointed two fingers behind you. 

“Away from the outpost, not far, that’s where I crossed.” He pressed his lips together and looked down at Luka. “Through a river. Just beneath a bridge.”

“The rivers are frozen.” You whispered.

“Hopefully.” He walked hunched over past you and waved you after him. “It’s our only hope. There’s too many down there.”

“We could go back for the car.”

“They’d shoot the tires out.” He didn’t wait for you to catch up. “Besides, it doesn’t go much faster than a lame horse.”

You followed him, as you always did. He was more talkative these days but only about your escape. Never about what happened, never about where this would end, just about moving on;  _keep going, don’t stop, we’re almost there…_

You walked for forty minutes, maybe more, and he stopped you just away from a stone bridge. Here it was darker. There were two men with flashlights walking along the figurative iron curtain, guns held low, their steps aimless. Their duty meant staying through the night, nothing more. When the reached the bridge, they would turn back and go about their rounds along the stretch of border.

James watched for a while. There pattern was the same, lackadaisical and repetitive. They were local farmers in soldier’s clothes. A job they took to feed their families, not one they would die for. He nodded and turned back to you in the shadows of the barren trees. 

“Ice is thin. We’ll break through. We can keep on the shore until we reach the bridge but then…Keep Luka above your head.” He pushed his shoulders back and spun around. 

He reached blindly behind him and his hand closed around your wrist. You mimicked his light steps as he led you through the dark, ducking in shadows as boots sounded on the frozen gravel. There were patches of snow but nothing so thick as to muffle your movement. Instead, he moved in time with the guards. Waiting for them to get far enough away before he started again.

He pulled you down the decline and kept you from slipping onto the ice. He turned again and met your eyes through the bleak night. You took Luka from his sling and held him snugly in your arms and nodded. James released you and continued on as you followed his broad shoulders towards the mouth of the bridge.

When you heard the guards again, he pressed himself to the frozen dirt and you did the same. The footsteps seemed to be on top of you before they once more retreated. He pointed two fingers ahead of him and you followed him in a crouch along the water rushing beneath the thin sheet of ice. 

Your foothold grew thinner and more treacherous as you neared the bridge. He stopped you as he reached the stone crossing and hoisted his bag from his back. His eyes flashed upwards as the guards boots echoed across the ground. The men greeted each other, chuckled at some indiscernible, and resumed their duty.

James waited until they were far again. He extended his leg to the water and carefully cracked the ice with his boot. He took a breath and hoisted his bag onto his shoulders. He lowered himself into the dark water, the ice at his waist. He turned back to help you down after him and you held Luka above your head.

You stifled a gasp at the frigid water and he made sure you were steady before he let go. He pushed his way through the ice, each crack, each snap, made your heart leap.  _What if the guards heard?_ Your teeth chattered as you followed him through the floes and he moved steadily until you were halfway under the bridge.

He raised his hand and you stopped. Listened to the sound of the guards above. They grumbled at each other and their boots tramped over the stone and wood structure. You waited again for their steps to fade into the distance. 

James signalled you to move again, your skin was numb yet burned like fire. You crept through the icy depths until you came out on the other side. He lifted you up first onto the dirt, just enough of a path to put one foot in front of the other. He climbed up after you and you looked back as he pulled out his pistol and listened.

Contented by the silence he nodded for you to carry on. You shivered and lowered Luka, carefully not to soak him. You walked and walked until the trees rose around you and he led you up the incline into another line of trees. It was odd how this side mirrored the other. Farcical how a little line drawn in the sand could divide people; divide the fortunate and unfortunate.

“Here,” He unzipped his bag, “Clothes.” He revealed a new sweater and a pair of jeans. “You’ll get sick in those.”

“It’s freezing out here,” You hissed.

“Exactly. So change fast.”

You offered Luka too him and he took him with the same reticence as he holstered his gun. He turned his back to you and you stripped your clothes quickly. You dressed even faster and found boots under the new set of clothes. He spun back as you pulled them out and laced them up.

“Keep your feet warm.” He advised as you replaced the sling over your shoulders. “The jacket will dry quick enough.”

You slipped back into the damp jacket and he returned Luka to his sling. You noticed the way his gloved fingers lingered on the baby’s cheek. He drew away sharply and bundled up your old clothes and hid them in a bush of thorns. 

“What about you?” You asked as he zipped up the bag and slung it on his shoulder.

“A little cold won’t get me,” He assured you and peered past the trees into the endless night. “Come on. Dawn will be here soon.” 

He didn’t walk ahead of you this time, instead he stayed beside you as you wove between the trees and back to the edge of the dirt road. You glanced over at him, his face hidden in the shadows. You reached over and touched the back of his hand, your wool glove soft against the cold leather.

“James,” You said as he flinched.

“Yes?” He replied gently.

“Will you carry Luka for a while? I’m so very tired.”

He stayed quiet as you continued to walk. A deep breath fogged before him as you poked his hand again. He grabbed your hand and stopped you. He turned you to him, the two of you enveloped in the black of night. For a moment, there was silence, thick, tense, frightful.

“Okay,” He said at last as he let you go. “I can carry him.”


End file.
